Untold Omens
by Vaengir
Summary: A wrongness plagues the world of Eos, reshaping events that were once predestined. Stuck in a tale of unknown possibilities, Aracelis seeks to comprehend this strange alternative story. SI/Self-insert
1. UO01: Missing Act

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter One: The Missing Act**

For generations, the House of Amicitia served the crown as their trusted shields. Sons and daughters of the line endured training at a young age in order to fulfill their role as the sole protectors of their king or queen. With their focus entirely devoted to the crown, the Amicitia relied on the Hesters to act as their chamberlain to handle and maintain their daily livelihood.

The current chamberlain, Jared Hester upheld his role for two generations by the time Clarus Amicitia, shield to the current King Regis Lucis Caelum, took over as head of the Amicitia house. While the man hoped to continue his role for a third generation of Amicitia when Gladiolus succeeds his father, it was unlikely he would be able to do so due to his health and age. Another Hester will have to take Jared's place and continue service to the Amicitia as their chamberlain.

Logically, the next successor would be his son Alder Hester. However, be it fate or luck, Alder had a daughter who was close in age to Gladiolus and so it was decided that the next successors forge a childhood bond. Under normal circumstances, their machinations might have worked flawlessly, except… there was nothing normal about the circumstances around Aracelis Hester. To those around her, she seemed nothing more than another small house of aristocracy that serves the crown.

In actuality?

"I've reincarnated into an auditing nightmare," muttered Aracelis under her breath dragging a hand over her face and covering her mouth. Her eyes glared down at her grandfather's handwritten ledgers for the Amicitia family.

At age sixteen, Aracelis has had close to two decades to adjust to her new life in Eos. For the most part, Insomnia was very much like any major city back in her old life. Tall buildings, dense population, bureaucracy and of course who can forget good old fashion patriotic bigotry and nepotism. If not for the reigning monarchies and the magical walls around the city, she could very well have thought she ended up in some foreign country back home.

Well… that and the whole_ going through puberty again_ bit.

"Stupid muscle-headed Amicitia and their penchant for property damage and weapon repairs!" muttered the girl darkly as she resumed transcribing everything onto her laptop. Her grandfather was far from being tech savvy and had been handling the Amicitia accounts in the most archaic manner.

As the person who will eventually take over his position as chamberlain to the Amicitia, she was the prime candidate for the arduous task of scanning and transcribing everything into her systems… not that any of it will matter in six years' time. Who cares about paperwork and numbers when the world is plunged into a decade of endless darkness? The only reason she bothered with the busywork was for the sake of maintaining appearances.

"_Wooh_, someone's in trouble!" sang a girlish voice playfully before Aracelis drew her attention away from her screen and glanced up to the entrance of her grandfather's office.

"Iris," said Aracelis in surprise as she pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and greeted the small 10-year-old. "What are you doing here?"

"Gladdy won't be around at all today!" giggled the young Amicitia as she scurried in and plopped down on the chair across from Aracelis' desk; her hands gripped the edge of the chair between her legs. "Which means you can train me today!"

"We spoke about this already Iris," sighed Aracelis as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "The way I fight is not fitting for a Lady of the Amicitia family."

"But I've never seen anyone that's not dad beat Gladdy!" protested Iris.

"… Aiming for the balls is not exactly a fair fight," retorted the older teen dryly.

In her previous life, Aracelis practiced Krav Maga as a means of self-defense, a fighting style known for its focus on extreme efficiency. Where she once lived, pepper sprays and tasers were considered illegal, even if used in self-defense, and at the time she was not in a financial position that allowed her to move to a safer neighborhood. Krav Maga gave her a fighting chance against bigger and stronger attackers, whereas other disciplines would require years of training and physical conditioning before she could even use it.

Of course, even with a fighting chance, if faced with more than one opponent at a time she would have to flee. Unlike the Amicitia, Aracelis was not built for combat, be it this life or her last. She was neither a bodybuilder nor a professional athlete. Her slender physique made it impractical for her to be a serious combatant. If she had to rely on weapons, the only logical choice would be guns. Unfortunately for her, Insomnia regulated private firearms heavily. Registered members of the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive were the primary exceptions. As the chamberlain successor to the Amicitia, if she attempted to apply to either group, she would come off as not only questionable, but suspicious.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it doesn't count," protested Iris. "Please Arie! Pretty please! I promise I won't use it on anyone except Gladdy!"

"Pft," snorted Aracelis in amusement. "Even if I teach you, you're not going to be able to do anything to your brother until you grow at least a couple of more feet."

"…You got that right!" a confident voice declared from the entrance.

"Gladdy!" yelped Iris in surprise as she scrambled to sit properly in her seat. "I thought you were going to be gone all day!"

"And you are supposed to be studying," retorted _Gladdy_ or more commonly Gladio, with his arms crossed as he entered the room. "Not bothering Arie to teach you any of her weird stuff."

"As if you don't teach weird stuff yourself Gladio," retorted Aracelis. "Shouldn't you be training the prince today?"

"You were going to see the prince today?" Iris chimed in.

"Prince Charmless played hooky." His voice rumbled in annoyance.

"…And you're letting him?" quipped Aracelis with a raised brow.

"He wishes," scoffed Gladio. "I need you to access his expense reports and narrow down where the hell he spends his time."

"And… what makes you think I can do that?" frowned the bespectacled-brunette. "I only work with your family accounts, I don't have access to the prince's expense reports. The prince is a privileged and sheltered 14-year-old boy," rationalized Aracelis. "Where do you expect him to go? He's probably at the movies with his friends or bombing his allowance money at the arcade and—"

A grin crossed Gladio's face when Aracelis groaned in realization.

"…You need a list of all the theatres and arcades by the prince's school now, don't you?" sighed Aracelis as she slipped a hand underneath her glasses, rubbing her face in annoyance.

"See, I knew I was right coming to you," Gladio grinned as he rested an arm on the doorframe. "You're smart. I knew you'd figure something out for me!"

"Oh yeah? Maybe you should do it yourself," Aracelis suggested.

For Aracelis, she'd known Gladio her whole damn life on Eos. As children, he once attempted to lord over her with his position as her future employer. She resorted to simply ignoring the boorish child, at least until she was able to physically toss him over her shoulder. If Gladio learned any lesson from his experience, it was to be wary of Aracelis' extreme methodical disposition. Even when she does not appear to be angry, it's only because she's biding her time until she finds the perfect moment to enact retribution.

Simply put, she was an excellent planner so Gladio relied on her skills and good sense for practicality.

"You do it so much better, organizing the most efficient route to hit all of them in record time," Gladio reasoned with her.

If Aracelis had to describe her relationship with Gladiolus Amicitia in a single word, she would say it's _vexing_. Not because she hated the older teen. It's more the fact they knew each other too well. Having grown up together, he knew how to drive her mad and she knew how to put him in his place if need be. It's a wonder they haven't killed each other yet.

"Have a heart Arie," teased Gladio, annoying her with mock puppy-eyes.

"Gaah! Arie make him stop! He's being creepy!" giggled Iris as she jumped up and ran behind the older girl.

"Hey!" shouted the older Amicitia with feigned indignation.

"Well you are!" squealed the smaller girl before sticking her tongue out playfully.

"She's got you there," noted Aracelis in dry amusement.

"Whatever, can you get me that list or not?" he grounded, seemingly drained of all previous good humor. "Or just show me how and I'll do it myself."

"Fine, fine," sighed Aracelis in resignation, determining that it would be faster to do it for him than to teach the likes of him how to do it himself.

"Oh I know!" Iris chimed in with a laugh. "Maybe you guys can get me a pet puppy! That way, we can always just give her something of the prince's to sniff on. We'll always be able to find him that way!"

"…Yeah, we're definitely _not_ doing that." Aracelis affirmed, narrowing her eyes at the sneaky little girl.

Due to past experience with web mapping services, it took Aracelis little to no effort to create a markup route of the city center, tagging all the places where he would most likely find the wayward prince.

"Here, now get out of my face," shooed Aracelis after she handed him a printout. "…Thank you, my faithful chamberlain." He intoned in jest before he glanced over the sheet. "Ugh… how are there so many of these places? You wanna come along and help?"

"Look. The prince is your responsibility, not mine," cemented Aracelis.

"I know that. It'd be faster if someone mans the car while I run in and search. It's going to be difficult to get around with public transportation and still get the prince back to the Citadel in time," he explained.

"No," refused Aracelis, all but done with him.

He crumpled the sheet in his hand before he turned his heel to leave the room. "Fine, be like that," growled the older teen.

"What a grumpy butt!" exclaimed Iris. Her cheeks puffed up in indignation. "Come on, Arie. I guess now we can start my training!"

"Hmm…" Aracelis frowned as she watched Gladio's retreating form.

"Arie?" called out Iris as she tugged at the older girl's sleeve.

"Let's… do a rain check on training Iris," suggested Aracelis with a firm pat on the girl's head. After a little consideration, she realized it really would take a lot of time for him to do everything himself, especially with rush hour coming in. Besides, she might as well use this ploy to get out of training Iris Amicitia for today.

"No fair! But you promised…" Iris cried.

"We'll train next time, okay?" the older teen assured her before she circled around the desk and quickly made her way out the door.

Down the hall, Aracelis spied Gladio studying the sheet she printed out for him as he briskly made his way towards the garage. With a resigned sigh, Aracelis shook her head and sprinted to catch up with the older teen. Gladio paused when he heard her coming close and glanced back with a questioning gaze.

"You owe me," muttered Aracelis, under her breath.

"Sure." He agreed flatly, an amused grin broke on his face as they made their way to the garage together. Once there, Aracelis took the wheel. Though she was technically under aged, Gladio had acquired special permissions for her to take her driving exams earlier as a birthday present. Of course, the car she used belonged to the Amicitia family, but between her and Gladio, they managed to convince Clarus it was a necessity.

"Doesn't the prince have minders?" she asked as she drove away from the Amicitia estates and out towards the highway.

"He gave them the slip," muttered Gladio, eyes on the map she printed out for him earlier.

"How?" frowned Aracelis.

Ironically, in all the years she has lived in Insomnia, she has never formally met Prince Noctis. Beyond Iris' girlish crush and second-hand stories from Gladio, she didn't see any logical point in doing so. Bad enough she had no clue how she ended up in this world, but knowing what's to come made it worse. Her grandfather of this life had died in the original story because of his association through the Amicitia family. She'd hate to see how much bigger the target would be on her and her family if she dared to involve herself in the prince's life.

As she cannot join the ranks of Crownsguard nor Kingsglaive, it's best she remains a stranger to him. Even more so now since he entered high school. This is the year the prince develops his closest bonds to his future Crownsguards. She didn't want to risk any disruption. The fate of the world depended on them after all.

"He learned how to warp and phase a while ago. The little shit's been using the warp to escape his guards," sighed the older teen.

"Sounds like he needs better guards," commented Aracelis as she drove off Insomnia's bending highways and onto the local streets.

"More like a _thorough ass whooping_," grumbled Gladio. "As a prince, he needs to know every action he makes has consequences. He can't just act like a child."

"Ignoring the fact that the prince is a child," noted Aracelis dryly. "_Corporal punishment_ is rather archaic don't you think?"

"Sometimes the _classics _are the best teachers," dismissed Gladio casually before he sat up and tapped the dashboard. "Stop here, I see him."

"Hmm?" The brunette drew her attention briefly away from the road to follow his line of sight.

Ever true to his word, there stood Prince Noctis idly strolling down the street. Aracelis' eyes narrowed as she hastily double-parked the car, allowing Gladio to run out after the boy. She watched with growing uncertainty as the larger teen planted a hand on Noctis' shoulder. The young prince barely glanced back, but at the sight of Gladio, a soft scowl crossed his face. The two began a cold exchange as Noctis dismissively brushed off the older teen's hand from his shoulder. Something wasn't right…

She has heard from Gladio countless times about the prince's slothfulness, but what she saw was closer to lethargy. She never gave it much thought, assuming that it was nothing more than exasperated fondness. However, seeing them now, she found herself reevaluating her initial assessment. Aracelis frowned as the wrongness continued to grow with each exchange.

From what she remembered, Noctis and Gladio were prone to butt heads with one another from time to time. However, the longer she observed them, the more she noticed a genuine iciness between the two. Back straight and expression cold, Noctis looked as though he could care less for Gladio's existence. The Amicitia teen wasn't any better, towering over the younger boy, chin raised and cold eyes glaring down.

Gladio had to forcibly steer him towards the car, ripping the back door open. He waited only long enough for the younger boy to get his legs in before slamming the door shut and taking the front seat.

"Your highness," greeted Aracelis, but the dark-haired boy ignored her in favor of resting his chin on the back of his hand and staring out the window.

"Ignore him," snarled Gladio as he buckled in. "Just head back to the Citadel."

Aracelis spared a glance at the solemn prince before she merged back into traffic and made her way to the Citadel. There was something familiar about the way Noctis sat in the backseat with a forlorn gaze cast out the window. A sense of déjà vu came over her, despite the wrongness of it all. She focused on driving instead to distract herself from these niggling thoughts, but in the end this only served to worry her more. By the time they reached their destination, dusk had begun to set with a lovely orange hue tinging the building's white surface as the sky darkened to night.

"Thank you for the help Aracelis." Gladio spoke cordially once he got the prince out of the car.

"…Sure," muttered the brunette as she eyed him with furrowed brows. Gladio never refers to her by her full name, unless they are in formal company. The only other person around now was the prince, but it made no sense for him to act like this around Noctis. Unless…

"Will you need a ride back to the estates later?"

"I can make my way back on my own." Gladio replied with a questioning gaze, it was unlike her to offer something like this. "You can head back first."

"If the prince requires a ride as well, I don't mind coming back to pick you up," offered Aracelis, drawing a look of surprise from Noctis and a scoff from Gladio.

"To where? By the time he's done with training, it'll be his curfew. He won't be able to go anywhere," noted Gladio in confusion, before a teasing glint relit his eye. "Unless …you _want _to come pick me up."

"Maybe when I no longer have standards or any modicum of self-respect," replied Aracelis airily. She enjoyed the confusion on Gladio's face and Noctis' hasty attempt to hide his snicker behind a well-timed cough. "I hope you have a good evening, your highness."

"Night," dismissed Noctis with a lazy wave as he turned to head back to the Citadel in better spirits.

Gladio shot her an uncertain look before trailing after the prince. With both of them gone, Aracelis steered her car through the roundabout and out the front gates. From what she observed, it seems like the prince was still living at the Citadel instead of his own apartment like she remembered.

Not yet a glaring concern, since it's quite possible he moved at a later date. Yet, the exchange between the future shield and prince disturbed her. She couldn't stop herself from fidgeting, tapping an irregular beat on her steering wheel.

Rather than sit through traffic and torment herself further with these thoughts, Aracelis decided to take a quieter path back home. Except… she probably should've sat through the traffic. The street lights were much dimmer on the quieter streets and there were no pedestrian sidewalks. When a jogger came across her car, she barely managed to slam her foot on the break in time. A look of panic crossed the blond's face before he tripped over his feet and hit the ground.

"Shit!" whispered Aracelis, her face white with terror as she yanked up her brakes. With her car secured, she kicked her door open and scrambled out of her car to check on him. "Hey! You okay?"

A hefty teen sat barely a foot away from the front of the car, stunned and shaken by the close call. At a quick glance over, he didn't seem hurt, but she rather not risk a lawsuit.

The wide-eyed young man turned his attention to her.

"Y-Yeah," stuttered the teen. He waved off her concern and attempted to recompose himself. "I'm fine."

"Thank goodness." Aracelis breathed in relief as she offered a hand to help him up. "Well, I'm glad you're okay. Maybe next time you should wear some reflectors if you decide to jog at night. You know… less likely someone would hit you."

"Umm… I guess I probably should've done that," chuckled the teen sheepishly as he grabbed onto her hand. "I usually run down this block because cars rarely go through here. Guess I should've been more careful…"

Aracelis grimaced, partially from the weight, but mostly because this really was her fault. "Are you going to be alright? I can drive you home or to the hospital if you need it."

"No, no, I'm fine! You don't have to go through the trouble to—" continued the teen before one of the residents in the neighborhood stuck his head out from his house to check on the commotion.

"Is everything all right?" asked the old man as he eyed the blond, the car and Aracelis in turn.

"Mr. Colias!" yelped the teen nervously as he scratched the back of his neck. "Everything's fine! Just a little acci—I mean misunderstanding! Nothing happened."

"Hmm?" The old man frowned as he eyed Aracelis and her vehicle once more.

"…Are you sure?"

"I'm totally sure!" The blond continued, doing his best to dissuade the local resident from getting needlessly involved. Before Aracelis could attempt to dissuade the nosy old coot herself, a tall healthy jogger briskly made his way towards them.

"Prompto!" He called in a friendly greeting before spotting both Aracelis and the old man Mr. Colias. "Is there a problem?"

"You damn right there's a problem!" huffed the old man. "This girl here is harassing—"

"No! No! Nothing of the sort!" The teen interrupted with raised appeasing hands. "It's just a misunderstanding, Steve. Everything's fine."

Steve gave a pensive look between blond's earnest face and Aracelis' stoic demeanor. "...If you say so."

"Yep, I'll even lap you on your morning jog tomorrow," challenged the blond, drawing a chuckle from the older man.

"Keep it up then!" They both exchanged a double thumbs up before the man turned away and jogged directly into the entrance of his home.

Aracelis froze, stunned at the familiar display.

The jogger definitely called him _Prompto_, the prince's gunslinger high school friend turned Crownsguard. Blond hair, blue eyes and glasses were a bit too general of a description to accurately identify someone, but what were the chances of someone with these identifiers to also be named Prompto?

"Um…miss?" Prompto waved a hand in her face to regain her attention.

"My apologies," Aracelis said with a shake of her head. "If you don't mind me asking, do you happen to attend Mysidia Academy by chance?"

"Oh, uh yeah!" confirmed the blond in surprise with a confused tilt to his head "…Why do you ask?"

This kid really was Prompto, but this wasn't right. Right now, he seemed like a good 30-40 pounds heavier than average. With roughly 30% body fat he is not obese, but not exactly battle ready either. From the looks of it, the younger teen wasn't even friends with the prince yet.

The sense of wrongness returned again, this time more daunting than when she was with Gladio and Noctis.

"Just a passing curiosity," answered Aracelis. She fought back a grimace and took her next actions. "Hey listen, I _feel really bad_ for nearly running you over, so…" She walked back to her car and rummaged through her bag for a business card.

While it was rather odd for someone her age to carry business cards, she enjoyed the convenience of not having to write down her contact information whenever she needed to share it with someone.

"Here's my card, feel free to call me if you need something," offered Aracelis as she made her way back to Prompto.

"What?" Prompto stared in confusion before he waved his hands frantically to decline. "No! It's okay, I don't need anything."

"I insist," pressured Aracelis. She grabbed hold of his hand and curled his fingers over the card.

Judging by his skittish behavior, she doubted that he would ever bother, but this gave her an excuse to approach him at a later date if need be.

Something is sorely wrong with this world and she must figure out what.


	2. UO02: Verisimilitude

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Two: Verisimilitude**

In the week after she met Prompto, Aracelis spent every free and waking moment she had engrossed in research on whatever she could find regarding the history of Eos. Without knowing the cause of the change, her only option was to delve into every possible avenue of research. She began the blind search on the Astrals, wary of what she may find.

While she hadn't followed Eos' creation and development in her last life, she knew it was originally part of the nightmare called Fabula Nova Crystallis or better known as Final Fantasy XIII. That world was the most needlessly convoluted and poorly executed piece of work she's seen in her life. There were plot holes within its plot holes. The storytelling was so bad, the characters practically broke the fourth wall to tell the player the transitioning dungeon to the next plot point was purely for level grinding. Needless to say, she disliked that series with a passion.

As she delved into the cosmogony collection, she feared to find any mention of Fal'Cie or L'Cie, XIII's version of the Astrals and their unfortunate gofer heroes. It was one thing to deal with temperamental gods, but another thing altogether if they decide to enslave you as their permanent punching bag. She barely wanted to work for the Amicitia family, there was no way she would be willing to work for those ostentatious gods.

Fortunately, the taint Eos contained were of daemons, cranky Astrals and the accursed. While disappointed to find the origin of the gods not a culprit of the change, it was also relieving for Aracelis. She needn't contend with forces she cannot hope to challenge. However, it also meant she had to look elsewhere for answers.

Situated in the library of Valetis Institute, Aracelis sat in a rumpled slouch surrounded by volumes of books, all in a variety of thickness, colors, and sizes. With the back of her knuckles pressed against her lips, she tapped her pen loudly against the blackwood desk with her other hand. It was all she could do to contain her nervous energy.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her meticulously neat bun had become a frayed mess. During the course of her research, she could not help burying her fingers through her hair out of sheer aggravation. Any other time she would have stopped to fix what she deemed as an unkempt bird's nest back to her standard of acceptable. However, when faced with the task of rifling through over 2000 years' worth of history of the royal families because her research with the Astrals reached a dead end, she was less inclined to worry over her personal comfort.

The kingdom of Lucis had over a hundred kings with King Regis as the 113th. Tenebrae likely had just as many oracles in the Nox Fleuret family and lastly, she can't imagine what it would be like to go through Niflheim's Aldercapt family.

"Damn it…" muttered Aracelis under her breath as she twirled the pen in her hand and planted it firmly against the desk. There had to be a better way to approach this.

"Eh-hem," coughed a patronizing voice. "If you don't mind _Aracelis_, there are other people using the library too."

Aracelis bit back a retort as she glanced up to the speaker. A desk away from hers was fellow classmate and self-declared rival, Marcus Flavius. Though, she mentally nicknamed him Flabio for acting like an obnoxious imitation of Gladio. Except he had less tact and even less musculature. To Aracelis, the red-headed young man was clearly pretentious and narcissistic, an idiot who fancies himself a heartthrob despite self-image issues. She has no clue why he decides to compete with her academically when Ignis Scientia dominates the rankings in their year.

Valetis Institute works with a competitive model. Exam results of all students were public record, posted for all to see. Aracelis regularly alternated between second and third with a rare few incidences of first. If she didn't know who Ignis was, she might've faced a crisis over her self-worth. In her previous life she developed her studying habits through mental anguish and tears. Her excellent grades were the product of a strenuous hell experience, otherwise known as being a college student. For Ignis to constantly beat her would have struck a blow to her ego, if she didn't already know that grades meant nothing for this future.

"My apologies," replied Aracelis icily. "For a moment I forgot you existed."

Flabio's smirk remained on his face despite her biting sarcasm. The corner of Aracelis' lips quirked up as she rested her elbows atop the desk and she loosely clasped her hands with only her fingers intertwined.

"How goes studying?" drawled Aracelis. "Any hopes in beating Ignis this time?"

"As if you could beat him," retorted Flabio, reminding her of her failings. "You're not that much better than me."

"True," admitted Aracelis in amusement, a sly grin tugged at her lips. "But I _am_ still better than _you_."

"You're a _real_ bitch Hester, you know that?" Flabio declared, glaring at her self-satisfied face.

"So I've been told," replied the brunette dryly before switching over to a mocking lilt. "Shall I vacate the library for you to nurse your ego?"

Scowling deeply, Flabio returned his attention to his books. Aracelis' grin widened at the petty victory, but ultimately she decided to pack her things and leave. With her research at a dead end, she might as well get some food before afternoon classes start. It was impossible for her to sit through a meal whenever she was on a project, often resulting in living off granola bars and coffee for weeks at a time. This is a bad habit she can't seem to get rid of, even in this new life.

There was plenty of information available to her regarding the history of the Caelum and Nox Fleuret lineage. Unfortunately, with the older generations, she would need to delve into the archives in the Citadel as it was unlikely for commonplace libraries to carry text as old as the kingdom itself. However, information on Niflheim's Aldercapts was near impossible to obtain within the walls of Insomnia. As the empire's main enemy for the last hundred years, anything that she finds will likely be biased doctrine to be taken with a grain of salt.

"…Great," muttered Aracelis. Her spoon stilled as she suddenly lost all appetite to continue.

It wouldn't be so bad if she had some direction, but… her thoughts trailed off when she spotted the familiar figure of Ignis Scientia walking by the cafeteria.

Surely, if anyone was to know something about the history of the Lucian kings, he was probably the best person to start with. Even if he doesn't know everything there was to know about them, he could at least give her some direction on where to look.

Except… she seldom spoke to the green-eyed advisor beyond classroom group assignments. Like with Noctis, she feared her interactions with him might change the course of the world for the worse. However, with how things are now, it shouldn't matter if she approached him. It definitely beat blindly searching like she had for the past week. Mind made up, Aracelis hastily disposed of her lunch and took quick steps to catch up with the advisor.

"Ignis!" She called out to the taller teen before he rounded the corner. He paused at his name and glanced back to see her hurrying to his side.

"…You are…" started the teen as he took a moment to identify the brazen brunette. "Aracelis Hester, you serve the Amicitias correct?"

"Yes," confirmed Aracelis with a curt nod. Trust for Ignis Scientia to identify her by her family's connection before all else. Though she supposed he would need to since he's technically in line for the title of Count when his uncle passes. "I would like to request your assistance on a personal project of mine regarding the Lucian kings."

Ignis paused to nudge his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he addressed her unexpected request. "... If you do not mind my asking, why me in particular?"

It stood within reason for Ignis to take all this the wrong way and view her as a tawdry social climber. The facts are that the Amicitia family are technically considered Knights, but since they've served for so many generations, they ranked above most knighthoods. If they were to stand on ceremony, the Scientia ranked above the Amicitia in court. However, on the battlefield, the roles would be reversed. The Hester family held no title or court position; however, they can represent the Amicitias, if they choose not to appear in court for whatever reason. Not that it happened often considering the Amicitias usually acted as the King's Shield.

"In short of a historian, who better to ask than someone slated to work for the crown?" Aracelis justified. At her declaration, Ignis failed to restrain a bewildered frown. "…I'm not slated to work for the crown."

"You're not…" Aracelis trailed off, gradually realizing that at no point has it ever been spoken that Ignis serves as the prince's advisor in this life. She felt a knot of dread accumulate in her stomach. However, she refused to allow this to throw her off. If Ignis wasn't Noctis' advisor then she must fabricate even more of an incentive to get close to him. "No matter, you're still the best student in the school and I could use a second set of eyes." Aracelis rectified.

"May I ask why you are researching the kings?" queried Ignis, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

"…I saw Prince Noctis recently," Aracelis began to explain. "He seemed unnaturally lethargic for his age."

"…Could be a lack of sleep," suggested the disinterested teen and began turning away. "…Most boys his age tend to have one thing…_ or another _that keeps them up at night."

With the subtle entendre, Ignis began to leave. Aracelis quickly felt her heart sinking as she watched him beginning to walk away. She couldn't let this happen! Noctis needed him. Hell, his presence alone opened the possibility for an alternate ending.

"But it's not just the prince!" snapped the brunette, desperate to hold his attention. With no hesitation, her hand lashed out and gripped tightly onto Ignis' arm, determined to keep him in place. "I noticed it with his majesty as well during a recent interview on TV."

Ignis now turned to face her again, wide eyed confusion clear on his face. "I know that I sound insane and that none of this makes sense! But you have to believe me! There's something wrong with the king and the prince!" cried Aracelis, near hysterical at this point. "I know for certain that with your help I'll be able to prove it! Don't you think it's our duty to make sure they're okay?"

"But… Surely this is only conjecture on your part," the young man reasoned with her. His wide green eyes glanced briefly at her death grip on his arm. Belatedly, Aracelis realized she overstepped her boundaries and hastily released her hold of him. With his arm now liberated, Ignis carefully readjusted his glasses. The unexpected jostling had knocked them askew. Much to her immediate relief, Ignis merely hesitated before he inexplicably agreed to assist her with the nonsensical cause. "... I suppose… I am amiable to the idea. When do you propose we begin this research?"

Outside of school, they each had a number of responsibilities to attend to. Even though the young man was no longer Noctis' future advisor, he was still slated for other duties as the future Count Scientia. The two eventually settled on comparing notes during their lunch hours, but they would conduct their research separately.

Aracelis technically did have some time after school before she needed to return to the Amicitia house to complete her tasks for the day. However, she learned a lifetime ago that breaks and downtime were essential to keeping her productivity intact. Hence…

"Just DIE you damn—" growled the bespectacled brunette under her breath as she rapidly pulled the trigger and gunned down the zombies hordes on the arcade screen. Among the noise of the arcade, a crescendo of horrifying string instruments blasted through the speakers accompanied by the moaning, groaning and splattering of 3D zombies. The score counter steadily climbed in numbers with each kill. It was practically routine by this point for Aracelis to make her way to an arcade and destress for an hour with zombie slaying. "Damn it," grumbled Aracelis as a bloody GAME OVER painted across the screen.

With a frustrated sigh, she deposited the gun controller back into its holster. However, as she turned to grab her bag to leave, she spotted a familiar face looking at her in surprise. "…Your highness?"

Determined to maintain her image of mature discipline, she often chose an out of the way arcade to avoid anyone who might recognize her. The prince seemed to share the same tactic … Maybe she could use this.

"…Gladio's not with you," stated Noctis as he glanced around for his shield.

"Do you want him to be here?" asked Aracelis with a raised brow.

"Not really," muttered Noctis.

"Well then… Let's keep this a _mutual secret_, shall we?" suggested Aracelis offhandedly.

"Wait… you're hiding from Gladio too?" frowned Noctis. "I thought you guys were friends."

"Have you _met_ that muscle head?" Aracelis asked him rhetorically, drawing a snort of laughter from the younger boy. "You barely know him and you don't even want to be in the same room as him. I grew up with him, trust me when I say that from time to time, a safe haven from him is required."

"Yeah… I guess so," agreed Noctis with an awkward grin.

"So…" continued Aracelis "Which game do you normally play here?"

Noctis gazed at the row of colorful arcade machines with uncertainty, but eventually shrugged and pointed to the game she was playing previously.

"How about we do one game and then I'll give you a ride back to the Citadel?" suggested Aracelis.

"What? Why?" protested Noctis, moving to grab a plastic gun.

Aracelis did the same and popped in the necessary coins. "One thing you need to learn about Gladio, if you stay in one place long enough, he _will_ find you," noted the older girl. The game started with a ghoulish moan and the two of them proceeded to gun down as many zombies as possible. "If you want to avoid him, you have to keep moving and also do something so obvious that he would think you're stupid."

"…Like going back to the Citadel?" repeated Noctis incredulously, successfully landing a headshot on a zombie. "It doesn't work all the time, but it will throw him if you do it sparingly," advised Aracelis, a wry grin tugging one corner of her lips.

While they played together, Aracelis reviewed all the information acquired so far. Prompto and Noctis weren't friends. Ignis wasn't his advisor. And Gladio? The Amicitia heir looked like he was more willing to step aside for someone to kill the prince rather than throw his body in the way to protect him.

It suddenly dawned on her, it was as though the events of Brotherhood never happened.

Alarmed by the thought, Aracelis' aim faltered and a zombie broke through the ranks. Noctis was quick to cover her mistake, but her mind had gone into overdrive.

The four of them developed their bond during the events of Brotherhood. Without it, naturally they would be near strangers. What didn't happen that was supposed to? What ultimately brought them together?

"Are you playing or what?" grumbled Noctis. He turned to glare at her, but the annoyance slipped from his face when he noticed the conflicted expression on hers. "Hey…"

"My apologies," muttered Aracelis as she looked at her gun. Her sullen expression reflected back at them on the flashing game over screen. A slow counter descended, indicating their time to continue was dwindling. "Do you wish to play again?"

"…Nah." He dismissed with a shake of his head. "You look like you have something on your mind. Just drive me home."

"Of course," said Aracelis dutifully. They gathered their belongings and walked in an awkward pall of silence back to her car. The smell of the city air was a welcome change from the stuffy atmosphere of the arcade.

Without knowing the full story, she had no clue what to say to the prince. It didn't help that she was clueless as to exactly what prevented the events of Brotherhood. The looming silence worsened when they got into the car and made their way back to the Citadel. Her only solace was the young prince's preference to sit in the backseat.

_Ring…Ring…_

"Excuse me." Aracelis glanced at her dashboard to check the caller. She didn't recognize the number, but she did give Prompto her contact information. So, she answered anyway. "Hello?"

"_Hello, is this Miss Aracelis Hester by any chance?_" asked a professional woman's voice coming from the car's speakers.

"Speaking, who may I ask is this?" inquired Aracelis with caution.

"_I'm Nurse Rhea, calling from the Remedium General Hospital regarding the patient Prompto Argentum._"

"The hospital?" Aracelis all but snapped. "What happened? Is he okay?

"_Due to hospital policy we cannot disclose patient information over the phone. However, as Mr. Argentum's parents are unreachable, he supplied us with your contact information. If you can come to the hospital as soon as you can, we can discuss what happened further._"

"Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can. Thank you for letting me know." She said before she ended the call. "Your highness, please put on your seat belt."

"That sounded serious," noted Noctis as he reached for his seatbelt and buckled in. "You can head to the hospital first if you like."

Aracelis glanced at him through the mirror in question. "Are you sure?"

"I _don't_ feel like heading back to the Citadel yet," dismissed Noctis in a curt tone as he stared pointedly back at her.

"…Very well," sighed Aracelis. "But you may wish to call for an escort back to the Citadel. I am uncertain how long this may take."

Noctis simply hummed in response, digging into his pocket to occupy himself with his phone.

Neither of them exchanged another word as she gripped the wheel and stepped on the accelerator. She wasn't crazy enough to speed through the highway with the prince in her car. It would be hard to explain to the traffic police why she had the Crown Prince of Lucis in her backseat. However, she did risk matching the speed limit and occasionally going above it.

"I'm here for Prompto Argentum," said Aracelis, nearly breathless as she got to the registration desk. She didn't bother asking the prince if he wanted to join her after she parked and abruptly left the car. "Nurse Rhea contacted me earlier that he is currently being hospitalized here."

"And who are you to the patient?" inquired the receptionist.

Who is she to Prompto? Aracelis recalled the nurse who contacted her mentioned that she couldn't get a hold of his parents. If something happened to Prompto and the hospital needed a medical proxy to authorize treatment, she wouldn't be able to help unless she was related in some manner. _She had no choice, but to lie. _She could be arrested for fraud, but it was the best she could come up with for the time being to make sure he's okay. Aracelis straightened her posture and evened out her breathing to compose herself.

"I'm his temporary guardian. His parents left him in my care while they're out of town," lied Aracelis.

Age wouldn't be an issue, most Kingsglaive and military recruits were eligible to serve at the tender age of 16. To her shock and dismay, Insomnian law states if they're old enough to die for their country, they're old enough to participate as legal adults. The thought still unsettled Aracelis from time to time, but in this incident, it was to her benefit that Insomnia's law system was so skewed.

"Room 15," informed the receptionist pointing her towards the double doors. Aracelis thanked her before she turned her heel and hurried off.

The brunette held her breath and suppressed her fear as she approached the number 15. The _so-called _rooms the receptionist mentioned were merely curtained off areas with individual stretchers used for accidents and emergencies. A number of beds were already occupied by patients with varying levels of injuries. She still had no clue what condition Prompto was in. At the sight of his number, she hastened her step. "Prompto!" called out Aracelis as she pulled back the curtain.

His wide blue eyes stood out against the cuts and scrapes on his face and the neat bandage around his head. The boy spluttered in surprise at the sight of her. "Miss Aracelis, I didn't expect you to actually come. Well, Nurse Rhea said she'll call, but um-"

"Are you okay?" Aracelis interrupted him before he could continue his fumbling words. "What happened?"

"Ehe…It looks kinda bad huh?" Prompto laughed sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. "I um…got hit by a car."

"You got…" The older girl's eyes widened at a sudden flash of headlights against the darkness of night replaced her vision. Hand over her mouth, she mentally cursed at her psyche's timing on assaulting her with the trauma of her previous death.

"But I'm fine really!" cried Prompto in a hurry. He flailed his hands in a panic to reassure her, thankfully unaware of the inner demons she was facing. "Honestly, they said I'm good to leave, but um…" Prompto nervously averted his gaze before he explained, "... I'm a minor and they kind of need a chaperone to… see… me home?"

"...Okay," agreed Aracelis, taking a deep breath "Let's get you signed out and back home."

Somehow, she managed to recompose herself long enough to flag down a nurse. Her self-proclaimed temporary guardianship won't hold up for long if they decide to question her right now. Fortunately, the blond was quick witted enough to realize what she was doing and agreed wholeheartedly with whatever lies she fed the nurses. Within the hour they got the appropriate paperwork filled out and were out of the hospital.

Aracelis was certain to steer the accident prone blond towards her car.

"Prince Noctis!?" yelped Prompto in surprise when he spotted the prince. "What's the prince doing here?"

"Just get in," muttered Aracelis in exhaustion before turning her attention to Noctis. "Will there be an escort coming for you, your highness?"

"... No," replied Noctis dismissively.

"…Am I going to have a squadron of Kingsglaive after me because of this?" asked Aracelis warily. "I would rather not be charged with treason for kidnapping the prince."

"Kidnap!?" Prompto looked between the two of them in horror. "What the hell Miss Aracelis!"

"... Prompto," Aracelis began calmly, but her patience wore thinner with each passing second.

"You said treason right? What's the punishment for treason? Death?" Prompto commenced in a slew of ridiculous questions. "Can you die a second time after you died once? Or maybe I'm already dead? And this is some weird punishment because I didn't listen and wear reflectors like she suggested?"

"Prompto," repeated the annoyed brunette sternly, but the teen didn't abate his rambling. "For goodness sake, calm down! You're not going to die!" snapped Aracelis as she grabbed the seatbelt and forcibly buckled him in.

The blond's frantic protests went ignored as she slammed the door shut. Through the window, she could still see Prompto's animated panic as he continued to talk himself into a frenzy. The prince looked away with a hand over his mouth, failing to hide his dark amusement.

It was through sheer willpower that Aracelis wasn't shaking from the unexpected episode at the hospital. This was her life now, she reminded herself as she made her way to the driver's seat. She died once already and was in no hurry to experience it again until she was old and decrepit. Besides, she reminded herself, she needed to make sure Prompto stayed safe long enough to become friends with Noctis and steer the plot back on its rails.

Once seated, Aracelis paused at the reflection of the two boys in her rearview mirror. The blond's previous frenzy was now indignation as he snapped at the snickering raven-haired prince. At this, a wide grin stretched across Noctis' face. His eyes filled with amusement as he retorted in a teasing manner. Prompto's freckled-face flushed red and he pointed an accusing finger at the other, clearly flustered. It took less effort than she thought for them to get along. Though at this point she wasn't sure if they were actually getting along or if Noctis was being an incorrigible troll.

"Behave children," chided Aracelis in jest as she started the car.

Her attempt to tease them in good humor fell flat as Prompto compliantly settled down in his seat. Prince Noctis, on the other hand, chose to stare pointedly at her. Neither Prompto nor Noctis spoke another word after she pulled out of the hospital parking lot and onto the streets.

"So…" started Aracelis, her fingers strumming with uncertainty on her steering wheel as she tried to come up with something to break the awkward silence. "Play any good games…lately?"

She wary another glance at her mirror to evaluate their reaction, but was met with twin looks of bewilderment and utter confusion. This was going to be harder than she expected. How was she supposed to relate to pubescent boys?

"I—um… played the new Assassin's Creed game recently," replied Prompto meekly.

"You play Assassin's Creed?" asked Noctis in surprise, turning his attention to the blond.

"Wait, you played it too?" gapped Prompto, as if seeing the prince in a whole new light.

"Duh, the assassin's like the coolest ever!" scoffed the raven-haired teen with a roll of his eyes before an excited grin tugged at his lips.

Inwardly, Aracelis breathed in relief as the two carried on fanboying over a video game. At least this was a start for them to hopefully branch off into their fated friendship. She personally wasn't too familiar with the Assassin's Creed franchise. Ironically, her primary exposure to it was purely through the special events in this game. Even so, she kept an ear on their conversation in case anything useful came up.

"Man! I never expected that the prince plays video games like the rest of us!" laughed Prompto.

"What's_ that _supposed to mean?" Noctis asked with a huff.

"I mean, you probably get attempted assassinations on your life all the time right? Isn't it a bit weird to play an assassin when you could potentially be assassinated?" the blond asked him curiously.

"You're totally into conspiracy theories aren't you?" quipped Noctis. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but Insomnia's super safe. If there was ever an assassination attempt, I've never experienced it personally."

"Serious?" continued Prompto in awe.

"Yep," confirmed Noctis. "They'd probably need to use a daemon to even have a chance, but the wall's near impenetrable. Never going to happen."

At his words, Aracelis gave her full attention to their conversation. That wasn't right. Didn't the prince get gravely injured once before as a child because a marilith breached the wall and got into the city? It's the reason why he needed to go to Tenebrae for healing and Niflheim took the opportunity to invade the diminutive state ruled by the Nox Fleuret royals.

"Your highness," interrupted the older teen. "There's truly never been an attack on your person? Not even once?"

"…Why are you surprised?" frowned Noctis. "Yeah… isn't it a good thing that he's never gotten an attempt on his life?" continued Prompto. "Of course," agreed Aracelis dismissively, but pressed on. "Does that mean you've never left Insomnia before?"

"No, why do you ask?" questioned the prince in confusion.

"Just wondering if you've been to Tenebrae," fibbed Aracelis hastily as she tried to justify the out of place question. "I think I read somewhere that the Assassin's Creed game developers took inspiration from Tenebrae's architecture for their city's design."

Another awkward pause.

"That um… sounds cool?" hedged Prompto, if only to be polite.

…Unquestionably awkward.

Aracelis found it best to cut her losses and stop interjecting further. For the rest of the trip, Noctis and Prompto continued to trade anecdotes and random tidbits about their favorite game. Albeit less rowdy compared to before, but at least they were still comfortable enough to talk to each other despite her presence. For now, it was an acceptable outcome.

"Name, identification and reason for visit?" questioned the guard when they finally made it to the gate barring the path to the Citadel.

"Aracelis Hester, I'm escorting the prince back to the Citadel." Aracelis answered, handing the guard her license. In surprise, the guard ducked down to peer through the vehicle's windows in order to confirm her words. "May we pass through the gates, please?" asked Aracelis, impatient to be kept waiting.

The guard swiped her license through a card reader to check her credentials, confirming her clearance under the Amicitia family. Prompto, on the other hand, proved to be another story.

"I'm only dropping the prince off at the steps. Prompto wouldn't be going in," argued Aracelis.

By now, Noctis and Prompto both stopped in their conversation and took notice of the exchange.

"Sorry, but those are the rules," reasoned the guard motioning with an open palm gesture, signaling there wasn't much he could do.

"Very well," huffed Aracelis irritably before she grabbed the back of her seat and turned to speak to the two boys in the car. "It looks like I will have to drop you off here."

"That's fine. I can—" started Prompto sheepishly as he moved to unbuckle his seatbelt, utterly self-conscious by the guard's suspicious gaze.

"Can I trust you to walk the rest of the way to the Citadel, highness?" interjected the brunette before Prompto could completely undo his seatbelt.

"…Huh?" Noctis looked up in surprise, not expecting to be asked to leave the car.

"I'm sorry, what?" the guard mirrored the princes' confusion, standing at her window.

"It's only a couple of hundred feet from here. Come on, up and at 'em," said Aracelis with a light tap to the back of her seat.

The blank expression didn't leave Noctis' face as he unbuckled himself and got out of her car. With a slight shuffle, the prince shouldered his school briefcase and meandered his way towards the gates.

The guard, flabbergasted by what just happened, looked torn between wanting to berate her and wanting to escort the prince to the Citadel himself. The latter won out and he scrambled to catch up to the prince.

"I'll leave his highness in your capable hands then." Aracelis called after the man's retreating form cheekily, before she placed her car in reverse and backed out from the front of the Citadel gates. "So, where do I drop you off Prompto?"

"What—you—did you just kick the prince out of your car because of me?" screeched Prompto in complete mortification.

"He's not the one who got into a car accident. Are you going to tell me where you live or not?" asked Aracelis.

"But he's the prince!"

"He has plenty of guards to take care of him. You on the other hand," huffed Aracelis as she glanced at him through the mirror. "Are alone for some reason. Where are your parents?"

Prompto averted his gaze before answering "...They're just busy with charity work."

"I see…" murmured Aracelis thoughtfully. She had wondered why Prompto was always alone before, if his parents were engaged in philanthropy work, it'd make sense that they won't be home often. Still, it was absurdly irresponsible for them to leave the teen without some means to contact them during an emergency.

"... It's not like I'm being neglected or anything." Prompto suddenly proclaimed, as if responding to her pensive silence. "Please don't get my parents in any trouble. They're good people."

Aracelis had no intention of taking any actions that could potentially disrupt his current living arrangements. She needed him to stay in the same school as Noctis and resume his role as the prince's friend and companion.

"On one condition," decided the older teen.

"Yes, I'll do anything." Prompto agreed hastily, without even knowing her demands.

"-A word of advice," chided Aracelis in exasperation. "In the future, you should really listen or read the terms and conditions before you agree to anything."

"Uh… you're not going to make me do anything illegal are you?" He asked.

"My _condition_," emphasized the brunette heavily to bring the conversation back to her original point. "Is that you contact me if anything happens to you and if your parents are not available." This meant more involvement than she would like, but it also meant she could monitor the situation better.

"…That's it?" asked the blond in confusion.

"That's it," confirmed Aracelis.

"But…why?" frowned Prompto. "I'm no one special, why would you do that for me?"

Aracelis breathed deeply through her nose, buying time for an explanation. She couldn't very well tell him something is dreadfully wrong with this world and that it is essential for him to become the prince's friend. Any sane person would try to get as far away from her as possible. It also didn't help that Prompto had an absurdly low level of self-esteem. She'll need to get that fixed before it gets in the way of him talking to Noctis.

"You were alone at the hospital after a car accident," reasoned Aracelis. "Special or not, no one should ever have to go through that alone. Besides… you're plenty special."

"Huh? What do you mean?" asked the blond in confusion.

"You made the prince laugh. From what I've seen, he doesn't do that often. I'd say that's pretty special," supplied Aracelis.

"W-what?" stuttered Prompto, face flushed red at the compliment.

"I think you two could become friends if you really wanted to," suggested Aracelis casually, with every intent of boosting his confidence so he would take the initiative to do so.

"...You think so?" asked the teen shyly.

"Doesn't hurt to try," replied Aracelis calmly, as she hoped to high hell he'd succeed. "But for my peace of mind, please call me if you get into something like that again. Can you promise me that? It doesn't even have to be something life threatening. If you need something or someone to talk to, feel free to call me."

The car fell silent. Aracelis continued to drive some distance away from the Citadel as she waited for the blond to make up his mind.

Prompto wore a conflicted expression on his freckled face as he thought over her words. "Sure, Miss Aracelis. I'll call you if I need anything," he finally agreed with a shy smile and a nod.

"Good, and you don't need to call me Miss Aracelis. Just my name will do," replied the older teen, relief flooded through her at his answer. "So, what is your address?"

Now that she has secured a means to begin fixing this nightmare, she could breathe a little bit easier. Not only that, but she also figured out why the events of Brotherhood hadn't happened. Somehow, the prince had avoided the marilith attack that would have sent him to Tenebrae for healing and meeting the oracle, Princess Lunafreya. Their meeting, in turn, would start a correspondence between them after the Niflheim invasion and lead to a series of events that would have brought Prompto to eventually engage the prince in a friendship.

Since the attack didn't happen, Noctis lost out on two friendships. One with Lunafreya and the other with Prompto. It hardly explains the situation with Ignis and Gladio, but if she had to fathom a guess, the marilith attack must have done more than send the prince to Tenebrae. Ignis was chosen by Regis for a reason, but what reason was it?

"What am I missing?" muttered Aracelis long after she obtained Prompto's cell number and sent him home.

Stuck in rush hour traffic with her mind filled with questions and speculations, Aracelis decided to pause her speculations on Ignis and turned her attention to Gladio instead. Logically, the marilith attack shouldn't have affected Noctis' meeting with Iris. With how often the Amicitia teen complained about the prince, Aracelis was surprised it hadn't triggered the events that led Iris to seek out Noctis to prove Gladio wrong. Iris was always the type to pursue what she wanted, when she wanted regardless of the rules.

It's unlike her to take this long to…

"…Oh no," muttered Aracelis under her breath as she thought back to all the times Iris came to her for training whenever Gladio wasn't around. The marilith didn't have anything to do with the strained relationship between Noctis and his shield, _she _did. "Idiot!"

An aggravated growl escaped her lips as she banged her head against the rim of her steering wheel. How did she not notice? It was so obvious, had she just paid attention! Iris idolized her almost as much as she did her brother. Naturally she would want to spend more time with her and instead of delving into a silly schoolgirl crush on the prince. Aracelis took a deep breath to recompose herself and gripped her wheel even tighter.

No matter, Gladio was easy. She just had to get him to respect Noctis somehow and all will be well. The question was how, but she could worry about that later. She still had the mystery of Ignis' lack of employment to the crown in question. Regis chose Ignis as the prince's advisor for a reason. He wanted him to guide Noctis and push him forward if the prince fell stagnant. For him to not appoint Ignis here, must mean he didn't feel Noctis needed an advisor.

"…But why wouldn't Noctis need an advisor?"

_HONK!_

Aracelis jumped at the sound and lifted her head from the wheel to see the traffic moving along. The cars around her were already driving ahead and she was holding up the cars behind her.

_HONK, HONK!_

"I'm going, I'm going!" grumbled the brunette as she stepped on the accelerator to push forward.

As she did so, another thought hit her. If the car horn hadn't alerted her, she wouldn't have noticed the traffic moving. What if that's what happened with the marilith attack? With the prince hurt, the king would have no choice but to be cautious and plan ahead. However, since Noctis didn't get hurt, Regis didn't get the sense of urgency to plan ahead… but Noctis was the chosen king, why wouldn't he plan ahead anyway?

Unless…

"He doesn't know Noctis is the chosen king," breathed Aracelis in horror.

Slowly, the pieces fell together and the entirety of the picture became clear. With the exception of Gladio—that was purely her fault—the marilith attack served as an essential catalyst.

Without it, Regis wouldn't worry over Noctis. He wouldn't take him to Tenebrae for healing. He wouldn't have fought his way out with Noctis in tow when Niflheim attacked. He wouldn't commune with the Crystal about his son's fate. He wouldn't realize his son is the chosen king, He wouldn't see... the omen of what was to happen to the prince if he were to face his fate alone.

A chill went through Aracelis as she realized the true severity of the situation. It was no longer just a matter of the world being plunged into never ending apocalyptic darkness. If she didn't get Noctis and his retinue back together before the start of his journey, there was a possibility this world will become the hell foretold by the omen. Where every turn was Ifrit's hellfire with three-headed Cerberus hellhounds and daemons at every corner. Where Noctis succumbs to the darkness and beats Lunafreya senseless with her own oracle staff before stabbing her to death.

"…What have I gotten myself into?"


	3. UO03: Web of Lies

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Three: Web of Lies**

"So, Optimus Lucis Caelum the 108th was the first king that put up the walls around Insomnia," muttered Aracelis under her breath.

With a half-eaten granola bar in one hand, she absentmindedly walked through the school halls while immersed in Ignis' research notes. There was no actual point for her to read them since she already found what she was looking for. However, it would be a pity to discard the green-eyed young man's meticulously researched notes. It made her almost wish there was some importance to the research rather than simply reading it for the sake of buying time.

In her search for answers, Aracelis unwittingly discovered an event that failed to come to pass in this world. Somehow, Prince Noctis never suffered injuries from a marilith that would become the catalyst to trigger his meeting with a number of important individuals in his life. Unless Aracelis can reconnect the prince to his Crownsguard in less than six years' time, the world was on track to an apocalyptic hellhole.

From what she'd seen so far, Prompto was well on his way to becoming friends with Noctis… That is, if the blond took advantage of his chance meeting and actually sought out the prince. Instead, he's taken to calling her randomly throughout the week for whatever reassurance he needed for his low self-esteem. She almost regrets giving him the option to confide in her. With how squeamish the boy was, it might take a while before approaching Noctis, if he ever decides to do so.

…Maybe she could get Gladio involved somehow and kill two birds with one stone, but she hasn't thought of a good excuse to get the muscle-headed Amicitia on board. Not that either of them was a major concern at this point. They've already made contact with Noctis, unlike Ignis who hasn't even seen the prince, much less spoken to him. She needed to find an opportunity for them to meet sooner rather than later.

"…Is that all you ever eat?" asked Ignis, trailing after her at leisure pace.

"Hm?" Aracelis glanced up from his notes, suddenly remembering he was there. This was the first time he has actually spoken to her since she asked him for help.

"I've watched you eat nothing but granola bars for the last several days," noted the bespectacled teen before her. "Do you eat nothing else?"

"…Only when I'm busy," replied Aracelis as she eyed her bar of dry berries, oats and nuts. She lost count of how many of these she's eaten. She estimated it to be at least a bulk-sized box every two weeks or so. "It's convenient."

"It's hardly healthy," frowned Ignis with brows furrowed.

"But it does save me the trouble of ordering food, waiting for the food and lastly _eating_ the food," reasoned Aracelis. She tucked the notes under her arm before she grabbed her water bottle and took a swig from it.

"Why not bring your own lunch?" offered the other teen.

"Can't cook," admitted the brunette as she capped her bottle and stowed it in her bag. She grabbed the notes from under her arm before she turned to stare pointedly at him. "And sandwiches aren't worth the effort to make when a granola bar has about the same nutritional value."

"I see," murmured Ignis.

"By the way," Aracelis stopped in the middle of the hall and lifted his notes for emphasis. At her abrupt stop, the students walking behind them fumbled to redirect themselves to walk around her. "This is very well done. Have you ever thought about applying for a job as the prince's advisor?"

"…This is the second time you're suggesting I work for the crown," noted Ignis inquisitively as he politely stepped aside for their fellow students. "May I ask why?"

"Um…" Aracelis feigned a cough to buy time to come up with an excuse. It was her fault for not segueing into it better. "You… just seem like you'll fit the role very well. It's a waste to have your talents used for anything less."

"Like researching for you?" mused Ignis.

"That's for the benefit of the king and prince," argued Aracelis defensively. "It's our civic duty!"

"You're oddly patriotic," commented the taller teen softly.

Aracelis opened her mouth to retort, but found herself unable to come up with an appropriate response. It does seem strange for her to be so active about helping the crown when she had no reason to, especially at her age. However, it doesn't change the fact Ignis was slowly losing interest in helping her pointless endeavor. Despite her attempts to show investment on his research, she could see his awareness of her disinterest in the material. With a sigh, the brunette lowered the research notes and looked him straight in the eye.

"…How about I get you some coffee?" offered Aracelis before she followed up with an explanation. "For helping me with this."

"Oh…" Ignis blinked in surprise before nodding quietly.

The two eventually made their way to the cafeteria. Ignis broke off to find seats for them, while Aracelis waited in line to purchase the promised hot drinks. She had the time between waiting for the drinks and taking them back to Ignis to come up with a reasonable request to keep associating with the other teen. Unfortunately, her mind remained blank as she made her way back to Ignis and handed the bespectacled teen his drink.

Since neither of them were adept conversationalists, they quickly fell into a pall of silence the moment she sat down. It was something Aracelis grew to notice with frequency when it came to trying to talk with people.

"So…" started Aracelis, her hands nursing the warm paper cup. "I don't think we found the answer."

"I'm not sure if there ever was an answer to be found," replied Ignis evenly as he watched the steam rise from his coffee.

"Look…" The freckled-face brunette stared down at her drink as she began her lie. "The truth is, I only approached you to be your friend. I didn't really need you to do research… Sorry."

"You're lying," replied Ignis bluntly.

"It's not—" She began to defend herself, but when their gaze met, she found it pointless to attempt a fake friendship. With a dismissive tone, she returned to her original plan. Maybe she could set him on another pointless research endeavor. "…Fine, I only approached you for your superior research skills, but it's obvious you don't believe my theory. There is something wrong with the king and the prince! It's probably not genetic as I initially assumed."

"...Is that so?" noted Ignis.

"See, you don't believe me," huffed Aracelis.

"How are you so convinced? Lethargy alone is hardly evidence," pressed Ignis.

"It's…" Aracelis paused and thought over her next words.

Ignis had already called out her lies once already, it would do her no good to lie carelessly again. She needed something believable to convince him otherwise. Obviously the king and prince's failing health were no longer viable excuses. If she wanted him to believe her, the matter would have to affect more than the royal family. It would have to affect the public as well. What would be a big enough issue that could start small and then spread?

She thought back to Noctis in hopes of coming up with something from her memory. However, all that came to mind was the prince fanboying over video games, carefree and oblivious to her plight. It made her wish she was at the arcade slaughtering zombies by the hundreds.

…Wait, zombies? Aracelis' eyes furrowed as she curled a fist against her lips. A zombie apocalypse would be too much of a stretch, but an epidemic of a similar caliber might just be a good enough excuse. What kind of epidemic was there in Eos that'd be big enough to cause concern and haven't had a proper cure yet?

"…Not lethargy, but something slow acting that eats away at the body enough to be mistaken for it," mumbled Aracelis under her breath as she tried to reason out the possibilities. "Something with the potential to worsen over time until it's too late."

"Something that eats away at the body over time?" repeated Ignis thoughtfully. "That sounds awfully like…"

"Starscourge," whispered Aracelis in realization as she turned to face him.

"In the city?" frowned Ignis. "Is that even possible?"

"… I don't know," admitted the brunette. "How does starscourge get transmitted anyhow?"

Inwardly, she did her best to hide her elation at the unexpected crack shot in the dark. It was a miracle she managed to come up with such an arbitrary excuse. Hopefully, the research would take a bit longer compared to the Lucian Kings and she won't have to come up with another wild goose chase for the young man.

"I suppose we'll have to find out," noted Ignis pensively.

"Indeed," murmured Aracelis behind her cup. Lying was far from her forte and she did not look forward to doing it again.

* * *

The clacking of wooden swords clashing with one another echoed through the training halls. Gladio kept a firm stance as he blocked blow after blow from the dark-haired prince. At a glaring opening, the Amicitia heir darted forward and disarmed Noctis with a decisive blow. The wooden sword flew out of the younger teen's hand as he was knocked to the ground.

"You can do better than that," grunted Gladio, displeased by the younger man's effort.

Noctis said nothing as he pushed himself up and went to grab his wooden sword. The two of them resumed the starting stance before the young prince darted forward again. It took no more than two parries before he was knocked to the ground once more by Gladio.

"Again," rumbled Gladio, hefting his wooden training sword over his shoulder, towering a beaten Noctis on the training room floors.

"No," groused the dark-haired prince as he pushed himself off the ground. "It's dinnertime."

Noctis ignored any further attempts from the older teen to get him back for more training. Disappointment filled Gladio as he watched the other leave the room. This was a common occurrence for how their sessions typically end. It drove him mad to see the prince approach his training with such a lackluster manner. However, there was little he could do beyond what he was already doing. It had been this way since he started working full-time as crownsguard.

From a young age, he knew his future was to be the shield for the prince once King Regis passed. Unlike other children, Gladio was privately tutored and sped through the typical school curriculum so he could take on crownsguard duties earlier, much like his father at his age. Beyond training the prince and his various duties, there was little else for him to do. It made most days seem futile by the time he made his way home.

Even so, he persevered and continued. He was an Amicitia, it was his duty to become crownsguard and serve the king. He had to push forward.

_Clack, Clack, Clack_

Gladio paused and doubled back at the sound of furious typing. When he peeked into Jared's office, he found Aracelis alternating between reading paper ledgers and transcribing its content onto her laptop. Everything seemed as it should, except he could tell the brunette was stressed about something. How could he not since they practically grew up together. She was about the only friend he had close to his own age, even though they don't always agree on most things.

"You look stressed," commented Gladio as he rested an arm at the door frame.

"Oh, you're back," sighed Aracelis tiredly. She broke away from her screen for a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose. "It's been a long week. How was crownsguard duty?"

"Same as always." He answered flatly.

"The prince still a little shit?" noted Aracelis dryly.

"When is he not?" grumbled the older teen.

"Maybe he'll grow out of it eventually," suggested the brunette offhandedly.

"If only," snorted Gladio. "He's as lazy as ever."

"He's still young," reasoned Aracelis. "There's still time for him to mature."

"You definitely have high hopes for him." He scoffed.

"I just—"

_Ring, Ring!_

Gladio frowned as Aracelis excused herself to check her phone. How unusual, he noted. The brunette wasn't known to have many friends and seldom received calls. Who in the world would call her at this hour? An exasperated look crossed his friend's face, followed by a string of dark muttering under her breath when she recognized the name on the screen. Gladio watched with growing interest when her exasperation turned into resignation.

"Prompto, I swear if you're in the hospital again because you got hit by another car I will murder you," groused the girl.

Again? Gladio's eyes widened, his curiosity piqued by the person on the other side of the call. What kind of person gets hit by a car with that much frequency? He watched Aracelis fall silent as the other side continued to chatter. He'd never seen her so patient with someone that wasn't Iris.

"... You reckless idiot. Stay where you are, I'm coming," growled the brunette before she hung up and stood from her seat. "I'm heading out."

"At this hour?" interrupted the Amicitia with a frown. "Who is this?"

"A hopeless idiot I nearly ran over a while back," grumbled the girl as she hastily packed away her things.

"You nearly what?" gapped Gladio in disbelief.

"Honestly! If it's not one thing, it's another with that boy," declared Aracelis as she swung her bag over her shoulder and stormed out of the room. "I'm surprised he's managed to stay alive up to this point."

"Wait, wait, wait!" shouted Gladio as he stopped her. "You're going to see him now?"

"Gladio, if you're worried, don't be! At this point, Prompto is a bigger hazard to himself than anyone else," groused Aracelis. "I'm going to wring his neck. He hasn't even recovered yet and he goes off over-exerting himself to the point that he can't even walk home."

"Arie, I'm coming with you," insisted Gladio, his grip tightening on her shoulder to keep her from storming off.

"Fine, you overbearing, muscle-headed—"

Gladio tuned out the rest of Aracelis' incessant rambling as he followed her to the car. Over the years, he's grown unfazed to her insults. Despite the vehement words, none of the insults were meant with malice. It was almost akin to an endearment between them by this point…Much like her poor driving skills when she's stressed out with worry.

"Slow down," snapped Gladio, hand gripped tightly on the handle above his head. He had made sure to buckle himself in the moment they got in the car, but he hadn't realized the extent of Aracelis' stress levels. He was certain she managed to hit nearly every dip and pothole as she steadily sped through the city.

By the time they finally stopped, Gladio was certain he left a permanent handprint on the handle bar from gripping so hard. Out the window he spotted a chubby blond kid seated on the stone barrier that separates the park from the pedestrian sidewalk and the main road. Aracelis unbuckled herself and haphazardly darted out of the car, slamming her door as she went.

The younger boy awkwardly raised a hand to greet her, but grimaced at the scolding to follow. Gladio couldn't hear what was being said with the windows closed, but he almost felt bad for the blond. Aracelis wasn't particularly good at showing concern for people. Sometimes, he's not even sure if she's capable of doing so.

The kid—Prompto, he recalled Aracelis calling him earlier—was probably the least intimidating individual he has ever seen. Chubby, embarrassed and covered in bandages, the boy was as Aracelis claimed, a hazard more to himself than to anyone else. A sheepish grin crossed the blond teens face as he tried to give a reasonable explanation to calm the brunette's ire, but she would have none of it. Prompto dipped his head down guiltily and twiddled his fingers.

Thinking the kid had suffered enough under Aracelis' _no doubt _harsh chastising, Gladio decided to leave the car and save him from further abuse. Prompto clearly doesn't look capable of having any untoward intentions against the brunette and Aracelis seemed to be genuinely concerned for the boy.

"Arie." Gladio called out as he approached them.

Prompto nearly yelped in surprise at the sight of him, but quickly silenced himself before he could say something potentially offensive.

"Oh good, you're here," noted Aracelis absently, before thumbing a finger to the blond. "Can you carry him to the car? The idiot can't walk."

"What!" Prompto squeaked as he glanced between her and Gladio.

"Fine, but I'm driving," noted Gladio.

"What? Why?" frowned Aracelis.

"Because you're a horrible driver when you're stressed," reasoned the taller teen.

"I am not!" groused the girl.

"Then you can carry blondie yourself," retorted Gladio.

"You don't have to carry me!" protested Prompto weakly. "I mean…I can—"

"If you could walk, you wouldn't have called me," scoffed Aracelis before turning to walk towards the car. "I'll get the navigation ready, Gladio. Just get him into the car."

"You're the boss," chuckled the Amicitia heir as he obediently moved to haul up Prompto. "Up we go blondie."

"Eep!" Prompto clutched onto Gladio's arm in surprise as the bigger teen picked him up, bridal style and carried him to the backseat of Aracelis' car.

"Buckle up Prompto," commanded the brunette as she pulled up his address on the navigation.

A wry grin tugged at Gladio's lips when Prompto scrambled to do as he was told. Aracelis had a way with telling people what to do and generally people would more or less listen. He shook his head in amusement and made his way into the driver's side. With a few adjustments to the seat and the mirror, he glanced to the navigation briefly before driving off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Prompto visibly uncomfortable in the back seat through the mirror. The blond chose to remain as silent and as unobtrusive as possible. Aracelis on the other hand drummed her fingers absentmindedly against the door while deep in thought. She seemed less agitated compared to when they were still back in Jared's office, but she was still far from relieved. Which meant, while Prompto wasn't the source of her stress, he must be adding to it. His level of carelessness was enough to drive even someone like Aracelis sick with worry. The thought didn't sit well with Gladio, he didn't like seeing his friend wracked with worry. He may not know what was truly bothering her, but Prompto seemed like an easy enough task for him to remedy.

"Arie, why don't you stay in the car? I'll take the kid inside," suggested Gladio once he parked in front of the blond's house.

"If you're offering, I'm not going to complain," said Aracelis dismissively before she turned back to the anxious boy seated in the back. "If the muscle-head threatens you with something ridiculous, just call me. If I don't hear from you, I will come and check on you to make sure he didn't kill you. Okay?"

"Ah… um… okay?" murmured Prompto, nervously shifting and too terrified to look either of them in the eye. Had he looked, he would've seen Gladio rolling his eyes before he got out of the car to retrieve the blond.

"Come on kid, say goodnight to Arie," said the Amicitia heir dryly.

Prompto's body went completely stiff when the older teen hauled him out of the car over his shoulder like a sack of leiden potatoes. "Night," repeated Prompto obediently as they made their way towards his house.

"Prompto right?" started Gladio once they were a good distance away from the car.

"I'm sorry!" shouted Prompto startling the older teen. "You're Aracelis' boyfriend right? I didn't mean anything by calling her at this hour! I was in trouble and I didn't know who else to call and—"

"Her boyfriend?" snorted Gladio before he bellowed out in laughter. "You better not let her hear that or she might kill you herself."

"So… you're not?" asked Prompto in confusion.

"Nah, just a concerned friend," chuckled Gladio. "Speaking of which, why don't you have anyone else besides Arie to contact for help? Where are your parents?"

"Ah… they're away right now." Prompto answered sheepishly. "Arie insisted I call her if I needed help."

"Is that so?" murmured Gladio as he reached the door. "Listen, you seem like a good kid, but you can't call her every single time you need something. She has a life of her own too you know."

"…Sorry," apologized Prompto quietly, staring down at the ground. "I didn't realize I was being a bother. I…um… I'll try not to call her anymore."

At the sight of the dejected and guilt-ridden blond hanging over his shoulder, Gladio regretted ever opening his mouth. Aracelis wasn't the only one who was bad at dealing with the feelings of other people. He clicked his tongue and ruffled the back of his head in frustration. There had to be something he could do to fix this.

"Hey!" Gladio lit up in realization, "How about I train you to be a bit more self-sufficient? This way you don't need to call her as much."

"Huh?" squeaked Prompto in surprise as he looked up to the older teen once more.

"You're obviously trying to train yourself for something and overdid it. Otherwise you wouldn't need to call Aracelis in the first place." He reasoned. "If you want, I can give you pointers and training when I have free time."

"Really? You'd do that for me?" asked the blond in childlike amazement.

"Sure, why not," shrugged Gladio, with a cool grin. "In return, you stop giving Aracelis random heart attacks like getting hit by cars."

"She told you about that, huh?" Prompto frowned, his face flushed red.

"First thing I heard her say the moment she picked up your call," chuckled Gladio. "So, how about it? Are you up for it?"

"… Yeah!" nodded Prompto enthusiastically. The fear previously displayed all but melted away as he looked up at Gladio in a new light.

"Good, now where are your keys?" asked Gladio bluntly, as he held out his hand.

The blond awkwardly wiggled in the Amicitia heir's hold as he rummaged for his keys and handed it to the older teen. Gladio made quick work dropping him down on the couch before trading numbers. With a promise that he'll contact Prompto, he made his way back to the car to find Aracelis asleep in the passenger seat. Even in sleep, her brows were knitted with worry. Gladio made note to check his schedule once he got home to make sure he could keep Prompto occupied long enough to give her a break.

* * *

A quiet sizzle hissed in the kitchen followed by the gentle scraping from a spatula. Cooking has become a comforting routine for Ignis since his parents passed away and he came into his uncle's care. Though, the word care was something he would use loosely. Beyond supplying him with the appropriate funds to buy what he needed to survive, he seldom saw his uncle. The man was constantly busy at the Citadel.

The only other thing the man ever got involved with in his life was his placement in the Valetis Institute, an academy meant for children whose parents worked for the Crown. While admission to the school appeared to be open to all, it had a stringent vetting process. In all of its history, no one of unknown backgrounds has ever been accepted. Due to this tradition of nepotism, any student who attended was more or less promised a job at the Citadel upon graduation.

_Click, Slam!_

"…Uncle?" Ignis called out for a confirmation towards the foyer.

"It's me," answered back the older Scientia.

With a nod to himself, he went back to finishing up his cooking. The relationship between him and his uncle was tenuous at best. They seemed more like reluctant roommates than uncle and nephew. While Pyralis Scientia was not a cruel man, he was far from the affectionate sort. After all, he never intended to start a family of his own prior to gaining custody of Ignis.

"It's rather late, are you preparing lunch for tomorrow?" asked Pyralis when he made his way to the open kitchen and living space.

"Yes," nodded Ignis before asking as an afterthought. "Have you eaten yet? I can make extra."

"No, I've eaten already," replied the man dismissively. "Do what you need to do. I trust your studies are going well?"

"Nothing I can't handle," replied the bespectacled teen almost mechanically.

It was a rare occasion that Ignis and his uncle find themselves in each other's presence, yet every time they shared nearly the same conversation. Bland, generic questions that they both knew the answers to, but felt obligated to ask anyway. Thinking back to his conversations with Aracelis, it was almost the same with the brunette, but with less obligatory exchanges.

"Well, don't stay up too late," finished the elder Scientia making his way to his room.

"Good night uncle," bid Ignis as he watched the man go.

He looked at the cooling food and started to pile it neatly into a glass container. It was the same routine day in and day out. If he wasn't at school, he was home preparing for school. Cooking was probably the extent of his hobbies. He was the best in his class, but this also made it hard to talk to any of his peers.

It seemed that his classmates thought him to be elusive and perhaps even too exceptional. If the unusual rivalry between Marcus Flavius and Aracelis was anything to go by, he was imperceptible in the eyes of others. Despite having scored the highest in their year, the red-haired young man seemed fixated on challenging the brunette for second place rather than going after Ignis for first. He recalled the bewildered look on the girl when she noted the other teen had declared the wrong person as his rival and pointed to Ignis instead.

…Speaking of the girl, she was a rather odd one. He wasn't sure what to make of her when she approached him all those weeks ago for research assistance. He concurred, the topic was interesting enough at the time to agree, but she made little sense during their exchanges. He's half-convinced the girl is a conspiracy theorist, albeit one that leans toward patriotism rather than anti-authority.

With the influx of immigrants from the outlying territories of Lucis coming to Insomnia, random bouts of unrest rose up from various parts of the city. Many conspiracy theorists thought the worst of the crown, suggesting its doing what it can to strip the comforts from its citizens for these supposed "outsiders", even though they too were citizens of Lucis. On the other hand, Aracelis' brand of conspiracies went in the other direction. She even went so far as trying to fake a friendship with him in order to get his help. Even stranger to him was her insistence that he should work as the prince's advisor.

Strangeness aside, the research topics she brought up were all interesting in their own right. Even if they amount to nothing but conspiracies, it was still an interesting read compared to his usual coursework.

He supposes he could continue to indulge the unhinged girl, until she gets bored and decides to leave him alone. He finished packing away his lunch and called it a night.

…What he didn't realize was the extent of the girl's dedication to her insanity.

"Coffee?" offered Aracelis.

Since he agreed to continue researching for her, the brunette made a point to find him in the courtyard during their lunch period. Despite her previous claims of ordering food and waiting on line as a waste of time, she always made sure to order coffee for him on a regular basis. All the while maintaining her unhealthy diet of water and granola bars.

"...Thank you," accepted Ignis quietly, uncertain as to how else to respond to the offer.

At first, the brunette confused him immensely, as she would abruptly leave after providing him the caffeinated beverage. However, as the days went by, he realized this was because she was as equally inept as him when it came to striking up conversation. Even so, she did seem grateful that he was continually humoring her conspiracy theories. Perhaps it could be interesting to keep indulging her.


	4. UO04: Motivation

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Four: Motivation**

Screams and moaning groans blasted out from the speakers, followed by violent gunshots and gory explosions. Noctis stood bored and lackluster in front of the zombie game among the obnoxious flashing and upbeat music in the arcade. His stance straight and his arm held out in perfect balance as he idly shot at each zombie that appeared on the screen. Compared to his weapons' training, arcade shooter games were nothing.

The gun had no knock-back, caused no ear ringing and he didn't have Gladio hovering over him watching his every move. It was just him, a limited health bar and the endless horde of zombies. He was alone and that was all he—

"What happened to staying irregular? Are you trying to get caught by Gladio?" Aracelis' voice broke his attention from the game and his character died a gruesome death in his inattention.

"If you're here, it's a safe bet that he isn't," retorted Noctis as he glanced at her with mild annoyance. "You're trying to avoid him too."

"Fair enough," agreed Aracelis before she dropped off her bag next to his and dug out her coin pouch. With a grin, she pulled out the gun and jingled her coin pouch in question. "Round two?"

"If you're paying, sure," shrugged Noctis resuming his stance.

Playing together became an odd routine for them whenever they ran into each other at the arcade. He never said much during the meetings, and this didn't seem to bother the older girl.

"So… are you and Prompto friends by any chance?" asked Aracelis during the pause when they decided to switch games.

"That blond kid that got hit by a car?" noted Noctis. He recalled the teen, half-wondering why she brought him up so suddenly.

"Ah, I guess not if you're still referring to him as that blond kid," muttered Aracelis with a shake of her head.

He'd ask why she brought up the question at all, but she seemed to have randomly gotten over it much like how she felt the need to ask in the first place. Aracelis was often odd that way. The raven-haired prince couldn't quite figure her out.

Most girls at his school were all horrendous busybodies with weird notions of who he was and what it was like to date him. They think he doesn't hear them in passing, but he's heard almost every possible variation of gossip on him. From liking shy quiet girls to being an enigmatic badass, he's thankful the majority of the gossip painted his character akin to prince charming, albeit he'd most definitely admit he was not. He has to question how they even came to those conclusions in the first place. Gladio has called him prince charmless behind his back on more than one occasion, but then again, his future shield viewed him as lesser than dirt on most days. It was hardly a fair assessment.

Despite being Gladio's friend, Aracelis didn't view Noctis in the same light as that muscle-head. Gladio was a stringent taskmaster, more than willing to work him to an inch of his life with training. Aracelis on the other hand, enjoyed routine breaks and she offered advice on how to effectively avoid the Amicitia heir. She even provided the occasional anecdote of how difficult the older teen could get whenever he fell into a mood.

It made dealing with Gladio... a bit more tolerable. Noctis was still far from being on good terms with his shield, but at least he didn't dread his training sessions as much compared to before. The fact that Gladio has yet to catch him when he skipped out on training made it all the better. He took a small amount of glee in the fact that it frustrated his reluctant shield to no end.

"It's getting late. You might want to head back soon," noted Aracelis, always at a time that will allow him to get back to the Citadel by public transportation at a reasonable hour. Apart from the time she rushed to the hospital, she seldom drove him back to the Citadel. He reasoned it was so Gladio would be none the wiser to them going off to the arcades and shirking their duties.

"Yeah, yeah," sighed Noctis as he gathered his bag.

Had she drove him home every time, it would have given away their tentative comradery against Gladiolus. As inconvenient as it was to take public transportation, he'd much rather keep this odd correspondence with the older girl. It was nice to know he wasn't the only one who needed to run away from time to time.

* * *

"Prompto, Prompto, Prompto, you're killing me," muttered Aracelis. She buried her face in her pillow out of frustration.

It had been weeks since she lucked out with the meeting between Noctis and Prompto. With how well the two interacted with each other, she was certain there was nothing to be concerned about. Except that, for whatever reason, the blond never initiated the friendship.

To make the situation worse, Prompto's initial onslaught of endless texts and calls had more or less stopped. She had no clue why and had no valid reason to contact him. She ended up checking on Noctis to gauge the extent of their relationship. Her meeting with the prince at the arcade was not by chance. She had meticulously calculated the possibilities of which arcade he would show up at any given day. As well as keeping track on how often she so "happens" to run into him to keep his suspicion down.

Of the people the prince should worry about, Gladio should be the least of his worries. If he knew how much work and effort she put into keep track of him, no doubt he'd run screaming or tell his father to have her arrested. Honestly, she's surprised that Crownsguard hasn't shown up at her front steps and demanded her parents to release her into their custody already. If they kept track of the prince half as well as she did, they would have noticed her absurd stalking.

_Knock, knock_

"Honey, are you okay?" asked her mother, Selene Hester, through the door.

"…I'm fine mother," replied Aracelis, her voice muffled by her pillow. She was far from fine.

The doorknob jiggled with a soft click before it carefully swung open. Aracelis didn't bother to turn to the door, recognizing her mother's waddling steps from her rotund pregnant belly. Selene was a kind and overly doting woman. There was no comparison to be made between her and the mother she had in her last life. Simply because her first mother was never in her life. Her father was a soldier so she grew up a "military brat", hopping from base community to base community during his deployments.

"You don't sound fine to me," commented Selene gently as she planted a hand on her head and ran her fingers through Aracelis' dark locks. "What's wrong? Is it school? Or the work you have to do for Grandpa Jared?"

"It's nothing I can't handle," lied Aracelis.

She sat up on her bed and reached out to grasp Selene's soft pudgy hands. Selene was in her last weeks of pregnancy and her body had swollen immensely in her hampered state. It will not be long now before Talcott is born. Aracelis dreaded the day. She had some experience with Iris when it came to younger siblings, but unlike Iris, Talcott would eventually trigger the events that lead to their grandfather's demise. She will have to find time to hammer in the lesson of not talking to strangers to her new little brother while dealing with the prince and his Crownsguards.

"Are you sure?" asked Selene worriedly as she clasped both hands over her daughter's. "You seem tired and stressed as of late."

"I promise, I'm fine," reassured Aracelis. "I'm… dealing with it."

"Hmm?" hummed Selene playfully. "By it, do you mean a boy?"

"…Mother," growled the younger Hester as she pulled away. "If this is your attempt to get me to start dating—"

"But honey," whined the older woman with a teasing tone. "You're young, smart and beautiful! Any boy would be happy to—"

"We've been through this mother," grounded Aracelis. "I—am—not—interested."

"Oh," pouted Selene. "What about Gladio then? You two get along."

"Mother," growled Aracelis as she pointed to her door. "We're done with this conversation."

"But sweetie!" protested the older woman.

"OUT!" snapped the freckled girl.

"Fine, fine, break your dear mother's heart," huffed Selene with mock hurt as she grabbed onto the four-poster frame and pulled herself up. "But in all honesty dear, you need to relax more. Make a friend and go have fun while you're still young. All this stress is not healthy for you."

It took a moment for her to waddle out of her room, but Aracelis waited patiently for her to leave before rolling off her bed to close and lock the door. Despite her mother's jesting, she knew the woman was trying her best to look out for her. The maternal affection was something she's yet to get used to even though she lived with the woman all these years.

Not that it made her care any less for her. In fact, she worried immensely, since neither her mother nor father were mentioned past Insomnia's fall. They could have very well died by then or even before. While maternal mortality in Insomnia was low, it didn't mean it wasn't possible. If that happened… Aracelis sighed deeply with her head pressed against the door for support.

"It's not going to happen. You're just freaking yourself out." The exhausted teen murmured quiet reassurances to herself.

It felt like her world was spiraling out of control and she had no way to stop it. Prompto aside, Gladio was the same as ever when it came to his disdain towards the prince and she had no clue where to even start with Ignis. It was impossible for her to read the straight-laced young man. She's convinced he thinks of her as some sort of _alien_ or something along those lines. Why he still bothers with her ruse was a mystery to her, but at this point, she'll take whatever she could get.

"It'll be fine." Aracelis continued to reassure herself to renew her determination. "I can do this."

* * *

The warmth of the sun, the gentle chirping of birds and the occasional soft breeze was commonplace, yet today seemed remarkable to Ignis. He wasn't sure when he started noticing the little things around the alcove he frequented in Valetis' lush green courtyard. He's sat there many times before, but he never took the consideration to actually take in his surroundings. Ignis glanced up from his food to the rustling leaves where sunlight peeked through. It felt different somehow.

"…Why do you always pick such an out of the way place to have lunch?" sighed Aracelis as she planted a routine cup of coffee next to his food on the decorative garden table.

"It's…" Ignis paused to consider the question. He closed his eyes and took in a relaxed breath. "It's pleasant."

"…Uh-huh…" Deadpanned Aracelis in response. "_You enjoy that_."

Ignis opened his eyes once she left. Belatedly, he noted a difference in her usual cadence. Over the past few weeks, he grew familiar to her quick driven steps whenever she dropped off coffee for him. At first, it was almost terrifying as though he was being hunted down like prey. Now that he acquainted himself to it, her light-footed and lackluster steps were notably uncanny. He couldn't explain why, but this was bothering him.

In the past, he never thought to stray his attention from his lessons and let his eyes wander about the classroom. However, curiosity got the better of him and he glanced over to the bored freckled-face girl. She rested her chin on her palm as she stared blankly out the window.

Since he never bothered looking at her before, he couldn't tell if this behavior was unusual. Judging by her grades and her work ethic outside of class, he would hazard a guess that she wasn't the sort to daydream and ignore her course load, but he could be wrong. She's proven to be hard to read in the past. Seeing as he couldn't come to a conclusion, he returned his attention back to the lesson.

As usual, the droning voice of their lecturer placed the less enthused students to sleep, while the rest of them scratched away with their pens to take notes. By the time all their classes ended, it was evident to him that she paid no mind to the dispersing activity around her. He deliberately took his time to pack up for the day, more slowly than all the others. She remained seated, still lost in thought with the orange hues of the afternoon sun cast onto her.

"…Aracelis?" called out Ignis once he finished packing his things.

"Hmm?" the girl jumped at the sound of her name and glanced around, finally realizing the room was devoid of their classmates. "Oh… class is over."

"You look like you have a lot on your mind," commented Ignis. "Something bothering you?"

"It's…" the brunette looked ready to deny his claim, but ultimately gave up and allowed her shoulders to sink. "Yeah… a couple of weeks ago, I nearly ran someone over."

"You ran…" Ignis stopped himself and hastily changed the direction of his words. "Is he okay?"

"He got hit by a different car a week later," muttered Aracelis darkly.

"A… rather accident prone individual I see," continued Ignis, barely able to keep his composure from turning into disbelief.

"Would you believe if I told you he got out of that relatively unharmed, but then ends up not being able to walk home because he overexerted himself?" groused Aracelis as she buried her hands in her hair in frustration. "I almost prefer having him give me a heart attack every time he calls me. At least then I know the idiot's not dead in a ditch somewhere."

"You said he called you, correct? Then surely you have his number," reasoned Ignis. "If you're that worried, why don't you just call him?"

"…Oh yeah." Aracelis lit up in realization before quickly digging out her phone and flipping through her contacts.

Ignis stared, not expecting her to do so this very moment. She seemed more like the sort to take her calls privately and away from spectators.

"Prompto?" greeted Aracelis the moment the call went through. However, the concern turned to fury as she began to scream into it. "Gladio? Why the hell do you have Prompto's phone? What did you do to him, you muscle-headed lunk!"

"…Muscle-headed lunk?" repeated Ignis quietly. Surprised by her sudden fury, he had never seen her so fired up. Even when she dealt with Flavius, she at most acted sardonic and dismissive. With this Gladio individual, she sounded absolutely infuriated.

"If anything happened to that boy, I'm going to gut you and string you up like cured meat," hissed Aracelis, pausing only when she heard laughing from the other end. "Stop laughing! It's not funny!"

Even under the threat of pain and death, this Gladio certainly sounded fond of her. Ignis can't remember if anyone in Valetis went by that name. While he personally didn't speak with any of their peers, he'd often glanced over the names posted with the exam results.

"I swear, Gladiolus Amicitia, if you don't tell me where you two are right now, I will burn your trashy romance novel collection," threatened the angry girl.

Amicitia, the line that served as the King's Shield, Ignis finally recalled. It's the family that employed the Hesters, Aracelis' family. He didn't know her relationship with the family of her future employer would be so close that she could openly threaten to destroy his property.

Regardless, Aracelis seemed re-energized by the call. He needn't concern himself about her lackluster behavior. Now satisfied, he quietly moved to leave. However, before he managed to make two steps, he felt a familiar death grip clenched around his arm.

"Wait!" Aracelis shouted to him before she growled back into the phone. "Not you Gladio! You and Prompto stay there! I'll be there _real_ soon."

Déjà vu washed over him as he watched the brunette end her call. It was like that day she approached him all over again. So fervent and distracted by her own goals, she never realized she kept his arm hostage.

"Yes?" asked Ignis patiently once she was done with her call.

"Look," started Aracelis uncomfortably. "I'm going to go check on Prompto, can you come with me?"

"…Why?" asked Ignis, startled to why she would ask him to tag along.

"Because I need a witness," muttered Aracelis quietly.

"A witness?" frowned Ignis. "What for?"

"So I don't end up murdering Gladio when I see him," growled the girl darkly. "I don't want to go to jail for the likes of him."

"You're utterly terrifying," quipped Ignis, straight-faced.

"Will you come?" huffed Aracelis, her grip tightened out of agitation as she met his eyes. "You being there will help."

Ignis didn't think he had a choice with how hard she kept her hold on him. While he was used to the girl's odd requests when it came to research, this was a whole other level of strange. No one had ever gone to him for confidence.

"…If it won't take too much time, I suppose I'm available to act as your conscience." He replied.

Aracelis' grip loosened, a smile tugged at her lips as her body visibly relaxed with relief. Idly, Ignis wondered why she found such a need for him to tag along. The girl was impossible to read.

* * *

"Looks like Arie's on her way here," commented Gladio offhandedly as he tossed the phone back to Prompto.

"What!" He screeched. Prompto tried to catch his phone mid-air, but ended up juggling it frantically before diving onto the grassy park grounds to catch it.

"Ha, nice catch blondie," chuckled Gladio. He squatted down to ruffle the scowling boy's hair.

"Gladio!" whined Prompto. He swatted the older teen's hand away and scrambled to sit up on his knees. "Why is Aracelis coming here? I thought I was doing good with not calling her. She sounded angry!"

"Guess she's just worried about you." He dismissed.

"But that was what I was trying to avoid," wailed the freckled blond.

Ever since Gladio agreed to train him, Prompto made an effort to cut down the amount of times he called Aracelis in a week. He still could not fathom why she was so nice to him, but he didn't want to burden her with his problems any longer.

"Well, she's going to be here whether you want her to or not," continued Gladio as he stood back up. "We can either keep training or you can freak out until she gets here."

"How are you so calm?" shouted Prompto.

"Listen, if you're going to freak out over every little thing that comes your way, you're not going to get anywhere in life," lectured Gladio. "Do what you can and improve on it."

"…I guess," mumbled Prompto before he pushed himself off the ground and resumed the rep sets the Amicitia planned for him.

Much to his surprise, Gladio was far more patient with him than he expected. Despite his constant failings, the older teen remained supportive. Prompto was grateful for all the time he spent on him.

"Prompto!" Aracelis' voice startled him halfway through his squat jump.

He jumped further than expected, flailing his arms to balance his landing. "A-Aracelis!" yelped the blond. When he didn't face plant into the ground, he cupped a hand behind his head sheepishly. "Hi…"

"You're…okay?" said the older girl in puzzlement once she came in range and grabbed him by the face for a better look.

"I'm fwine!" whined Prompto with his cheeks squished in her hands. "Gladio's jhust treining me."

"What did you think I was doing to the kid?" huffed Gladio as he rested his weight on one leg and crossed his arms.

"Knowing you? You get overzealous with your training methods," retorted Aracelis. She released Prompto's face and turned back to face Gladio.

"Whatever," dismissed the well-built teen before noticing the green-eyed stranger that came with her. "So who's this guy? Another hopeless case like Prompto?"

"Ignis Scientia, he's a classmate," said Aracelis firmly, but paused to reconsider her words. "He's… important."

If Prompto hadn't made the mistake in assuming Gladio was Aracelis' boyfriend last time, he might've done the same with Ignis. However, Aracelis' introduction sounded ridiculously ambiguous, to the point that even Ignis and Gladio looked to one another to confirm they heard her correctly. Then again, he thought back to the day he spoke to Noctis, the older girl was awkward there too.

"Anyway… I'm glad you're okay Prompto, but what drove you to train with Gladio anyway?" asked the girl curiously. "He's not known to take it easy on people."

"Hey!" warned Gladio, but as always, Aracelis ignored him.

"Well… You did so much for me. I felt like I was being a bother and I didn't want to worry you," shuffled the blond uncomfortably as scratched the side of his cheek. "Also, there's someone I wanted to be friends with… but I don't think we can be friends until I lose some weight."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" snapped Aracelis.

"I know, but I..." mumbled Prompto as he scratched the side of his cheek still fidgeting absently. "I just thought I'd feel a bit more confident if I could be a bit more like Gladio first."

"A bit more like— "Aracelis cut herself with an annoyed huff before she stomped over to Gladio.

The Amicitia cocked an eyebrow when she stopped short in front of him and suddenly yanked up the hem of his shirt.

"Okay Prompto, you see this here?" said Aracelis before swinging her hand back.

_SLAP, SLAP!_

"Um…" the freckled-face blond watched uncomfortably as the girl nonchalantly slapped Gladio's exposed torso.

The Amicitia tensed his abdomen when struck, but remained unfazed as he glanced down to his childhood friend in question. Behind them Ignis could only stare, mortified. Like Prompto, he didn't expect Aracelis to do something so bold and strange at a whim.

"You think this happens overnight?" huffed the girl as she slapped Gladio's abs a handful more times in demonstration. "This here is years of hard work and dedication! You think you can get this physique with just a couple of weeks?"

Gladio stood with his chest puffed up and head held high, obviously preening at her words.

"Umm… yeah," Prompto began as he continued to stare at them. He never imagined that the older teen was the vain sort, but after seeing this, he's quite confident that Gladio likes his ego to be stroked from time to time. "...I didn't think I was going to get to Gladio's level overnight," he admitted, disheartened at hearing it out loud from his own mouth.

"Not the point I'm trying to make," interrupted Aracelis before he could discourage himself further.

"Huh?" the blond glanced to her in question, not sure where she was going with the conversation.

"I'm not saying this to stop you from improving yourself," amended the older girl. "Rather, you shouldn't be using self-improvement as an excuse to hide and run away. If you want to befriend someone, go for it! You don't need to change who you are!"

Prompto found himself reprimanded yet again. He would start apologizing, but Aracelis didn't sound like she was finished yet. This was just like the night he met Gladio all over again.

"If you don't want to worry me, then stop giving me a reason to worry!" ranted the older girl.

"Y-yes ma'am!" squeaked Prompto. "But um…"

"What is it? Stop stuttering and speak up!" snapped Aracelis.

"But I don't know how to stop worrying you!" shouted Prompto.

His outburst stopped the older girl momentarily, as if to observe him. When she made no move to resume her angry chastising, he took it as an opportunity to finally voice out his thoughts.

"I'm… really sorry. I didn't mean to take advantage of your kindness. I was really trying to be less of a burden and a nuisance, but it seems like everything I try just makes it worse!" admitted Prompto as he wrung his hands nervously. "And…and! You're way too scary when you're worried about me!"

What followed after was a pensive expression on the older girl's face. Prompto paled, hands jittering and utterly flustered. He cannot believe that he actually said all of that out loud. He never shouted at anyone before, much less someone he didn't want to disappoint. The blond was close to near tears when a deep bellowing laugh suddenly escaped Gladio. He seemed immensely amused as he stepped forward and clapped a firm hand on the blond's back.

"Good job kid, I guess you're not completely hopeless if you could tell Arie off." He cheered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" Prompto began to apologize profusely, but to his surprise Ignis actually spoke up and was making his way toward them.

"If you send her regular updates, she's less inclined to be vexed with you," supplied Ignis as he adjusted his glasses. "Despite her high standards, Aracelis is not completely unreasonable."

"She might still bitch at you though," added Gladio wryly. "But that's normal."

"Shut up," cut in Aracelis, shooting a pointed glare at her friend. This only served to draw forward another laugh from Gladio.

Relief washed over Prompto at seeing the two older teens bicker. It was strange to have someone care about him. Even stranger, now that the number seems to have grown. Aracelis and Gladio were just like the older sister and brother he never had, but sorely wanted. He glanced over at Ignis who went silent again. Underneath his glasses, Prompto could see a secret smile on his face. Prompto wasn't quite sure what to make of the quiet young man, but he was kind enough to provide him reassurances when he didn't need to.

"I'm…" started Prompto meekly, but grew ever more confident. "I'm going to do my best!"

...Easier said than done.

"I can do this. I can do this," Prompto encouraged himself, smacking his hands soundly against his cheeks as he walked to school that morning.

Despite his promise to Aracelis and Gladio, it didn't make talking to the prince any less terrifying in the heat of the moment. Prompto became half convinced he might pass out in the middle of the street with each step he took. His hands were clammy with sweat and heart felt like it would pound out of his chest. Unfortunately, the walk to school felt quicker than usual.

As he approached the school gates, the boy deeply exhaled in an attempt to expend his nervous energy. "I got this!"

With renewed determination, he adjusted the strap on his wrist and walked towards the school entrance. Pointedly, he decided to ignore any looks he may have garnered from trying to calm himself earlier. It was usual for him to duck his head down and hurry his way in. Today, he kept his eyes peeled in search of any signs of the prince. He hoped to speak with him before class, so his confidence doesn't run out.

Unfortunately, the prince was nowhere to be found. As he glanced about, he noticed there weren't many other students around. Belatedly, he realized he must've been walking too fast, so he arrived at school too early. The confidence all but deflated out of him as he trudged the rest of the way into the school. So much for working up the courage to talk to the prince. The raven-haired boy wasn't even at school yet.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" muttered Prompto under his breath. He saw no one was in the classroom through the door window. Dejected, he planted his head against the door with a loud thump.

"…Not sure what the door did to you this early in the morning, but are you going to go in?" asked an unenthused voice from behind him.

"I'm moving," moped Prompto as he peeled himself off and opened the door. He took two steps in before realizing the person he was looking for was right behind him. "Prince Noctis!"

The prince only stared at him with a cocked eyebrow. "I was looking for you!" started Prompto, but then immediately amended his words when he realized that could be misconstrued. "I mean… I'm Prompto Argentum. I don't know if you remember me but um…"

"Who could forget?" replied Noctis in amusement. At this, the blond looked at him hopefully.

"Not everyday you meet someone who got hit by a car and who also happens to be an Assassin's Creed nerd," commented the raven-haired boy as he walked past him.

"…Oh," Prompto lowered his head in defeat, dejected that the prince's memory of him was that of an accident prone nerd. It was impossible for them to be friends after all.

After a moment, Noctis called out to him from inside the classroom. "Are you just going to stand there?"

Prompto looked up in surprise when he realized the prince was still talking with him.

"It'll be awhile before anyone else gets here," continued Noctis offhandedly. "I managed to beat that boss battle I was telling you about in Aries' car."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when it finally did, Prompto had the biggest smile on his face. The weight from all the worries he felt up to this point were suddenly gone. He didn't waste a moment longer and followed the prince into the classroom. He barely managed to drop his bag at his desk before the two engaged each other in a conversation over their favorite game.

If not for Aracelis and Gladio, he probably would've never gotten the courage to talk to him. Aracelis was right after all. Losing weight first was just an excuse. Noctis would've been his friend regardless of his size. Now that they were finally talking, he wished he drew up his courage sooner.


	5. UO05: Budding Friendships

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Five: Budding Friendships**

Day in and day out, Gladio amounted to attending Crownsguard duties and training the brat prince, Noctis. The only reprieve he had in this mundane routine was training Aracelis' new charity case, Prompto. At first he meant to alleviate his friend's stress by toughening up the hapless kid so she would stop worrying and stressing over the boy. However, with each session he shared with Prompto, he realized how enjoyable it was to work with someone who made an effort for a change.

Prompto, while skittish and more likely to be terrified of his own shadow, was earnest and hardworking. Something the prince sorely lacked in all the time Gladio spent with him. Nowadays, he dreaded making his way to the Citadel. To the same boring—

"Hey! Newbie!" shouted an unfamiliar woman's voice.

Gladio paused when he noticed there was no one in the vicinity of the Citadel halls that could be considered a newbie. Confused, he glanced back to the owner of the voice and spotted a dark-haired woman in the Kingsglaive uniform. She scowled and made her way towards him.

"Yes, I'm talking to you," said the irritated woman. "What do you think you're doing wandering in this part of the Citadel? All the new recruits are at the courtyard warming up for training."

"New recruits?" repeated Gladio before he realized the woman must be mistaking him for a Kingsglaive trainee since he wasn't in his Crownsguard uniform. It was not something he preferred to wear in public, so he opted to change at the Citadel rather than wear it at home. New Kingsglaive recruits tended to be around his age bracket so he couldn't fault the woman for making the mistake. "I'm not—"

"I don't care if you're not ready! You should've been in uniform before you came here!" scolded the woman.

The irony wasn't lost on Gladio as she grabbed onto his shoulder and forcibly steered him towards the courtyard. Logically, he should have stopped the older woman and explain the misunderstanding. However, she didn't seem like the sort to listen. So he decided to play along, half curious to see how long it would take before someone noticed he wasn't actually part of Kingsglaive.

As they made their way into the courtyard, Gladio spotted a number of fresh-faced recruits staring at the upper floors in amazement. The Amicitia followed their line of sight to the decorative stone archways. His eyes squinted through the sun glare to see a senior glaive jumping off the edge and throwing their issued dagger. The familiar sound of a blade cutting through air echoed in the courtyard before the glaive disappeared, leaving only a blue after image behind him.

"Libertus! I found a straggler," shouted the woman as she released her hold of Gladio's shoulder, shoving him towards the portly Kingsglaive standing by the wide-eyed recruits. Her push didn't move him far, but she didn't seem to be bothered by the fact.

"You caught a straggler, Crowe?" repeated the man, Libertus. A confused frown crossed his face as he glanced to his clipboard. "Everyone's accounted for. HR must've fucked up the list again. Just get in the group with everyone for now. We'll deal with the stupid paperwork later."

"But I'm not—" Gladio began to protest, but his words were ignored.

"Holy shit! He's going to fall!" shouted a new recruit in alarm.

At his interruption, Gladio turned his attention to the pillar in the middle of the courtyard and spotted a glaive falling at an alarming rate. A frown knitted at his brow, he's too far to tell whether or not the man was in stasis from overusing the warpstrike ability. Regardless, he couldn't let the man fall to his death. Without a word to either Crowe or Libertus, he darted towards the landing point of the glaive with the intention of redirecting his fall.

Having dealt with Noctis' reckless use of the warpstrike, he learned to redirect the falling boy to avoid serious injuries. From the height the glaive fell, he wasn't certain if he could do the same here, but he wasn't about to watch the poor bastard smash his brains out in the courtyard. Gladio had every intent to help the man, except it turned out the glaive didn't need his help at all.

In a turn of events, the glaive twisted in midair and chucked his dagger to the ground by Gladio's feet. The man disappeared in another flash of blue light before reappearing in a soft explosion. If he hadn't gotten so used to the prince attempting to use warpstrike as a means to take him down during training, he might've been startled. Instead, he was mildly annoyed that he failed to realize it was all part of the demonstration for the new Kingsglaive recruits.

"Hey newbie," chuckled the glaive. He knocked the hood of his uniform back and revealed a grinning stubble face with a fade haircut and short, dangling Galahdian braids.

"Quit scaring the new recruits Nyx!" shouted Libertus from behind them.

"Come on Libertus! That was all in good fun!" responded Nyx brightly before he clapped a hand on Gladio's shoulder. "Besides! It looks like we have a budding hero in the mix! This one tried to save me."

"I'm not Kingsglaive," stated Gladio, swatting the older man's hand away in annoyance. "I'm Crownsguard."

"Sure you are," grinned Nyx. He ruffled the indignant teen's hair as he stepped around him to walk towards Libertus and the new Kingsglaive recruits. "All right, demonstration over! I've shown you the fun stuff, now time to get to the boring stuff. Everyone pair up!"

"What are you waiting for newbie! Get your ass moving!" shouted Crowe.

"You heard her," called back Nyx in good humor.

"But I'm seriously not—!" protested Gladio, but he was never given the chance to explain himself.

Out of annoyance, Crowe stormed over to grab him by the collar of his shirt and drag him off to join the rest of the group. Before he knew it, Gladio found himself caught up in a training session with the Kingsglaive recruits. As hard as he tried to make his case, there was no convincing the senior glaives that he was part of Crownsguard. They insisted on treating him like Kingsglaive and oddly… he grew to enjoy it once the training was well on its way.

"Overcompensating much?" commented Crowe dryly when she spotted Gladio with the massive training greatsword.

"Well, you know what they say," joked Libertus heartily. "It's not the size that matters, but how you use it."

"Wanna show us how to use that, kid?" teased Nyx. He twirled a pair of training daggers in his hands as he slipped into a battle stance.

"You're not my type, but if you want an ass beating I'll gladly give it to you," boasted Gladio. He hefted the training sword over his shoulder at the ready and lowered his stance to prepare himself for a lunge.

"Big words, kid," grinned Nyx. "Show me what you got."

This was an interesting experience for the Amicitia. Hazing and countless innuendo-laced jokes aside, the members of Kingsglaive were generally friendly and open to reciprocated joshing. Unlike Crownsguard, where the hierarchy of respect was strictly reinforced, Kingsglaive had a far more casual stance when it came to mingling between the ranks.

With the size difference in weapons, Nyx never met him blow for blow. Instead, the older man parried and dodged whenever he could and struck back when an opening presented itself. Gladio found Crownsguard fought with a more direct approach, while Kingsglaive used more guerilla warfare tactics. The difference made the fight challenging and an exhilarating change to his routine.

Gladio couldn't remember the last time he had this much fun with training.

"Gladiolus!" snapped a commanding voice.

The courtyard fell into a dead silence as the newcomer drew everyone's attention to him. Gladio bit back a curse when he recognized the man as Cor Leonis, Marshall of the Crownsguard. Subsequently, he realized the impromptu training with Kingsglaive had made him late for his shift at the Citadel.

"Sir!" started Gladio, ready to explain the situation. Just as he was about to do so, Nyx planted a hand on his shoulder and roughly shuffled him behind him.

"Marshall," greeted the glaive professionally as he stood in front of the teen. "What brings you around these parts?"

"Is there a reason you have possession of one of my Crownsguard?" demanded the man coolly.

"…Crownsguard?" hushed murmurings broke out among the recruits, but no one dared to say more at the sight of Cor.

"Just a little cross-division training sir," replied Nyx smoothly. "It ran a little longer than expected. We'll be more mindful of it next time."

Gladio's eyes widened in surprise at the blatant lie. Though, he wasn't certain if it was because the man had the gall to lie to Cor, the attempt to cover for him, or the fact that Gladio was now stuck with the lie and can't come clean without contradicting the man. Overall, he was confused, annoyed and highly affronted by the two talking about him as if he doesn't exist.

"Is that so?" noted Cor. It was obvious he didn't believe a word coming out of Nyx's mouth. However, for the sake of civility, he didn't call the man out.

"Definitely sir!" answered Nyx pleasantly. "The kid's an interesting challenge for the new recruits."

"I see." Cor dismissed the matter before he turned his heel to leave. "If you're quite done. Gladio, with me."

"Yes sir!" The Amicitia teen adjusted his grip on the training sword and handed it to Nyx hilt side up. "It was… an interesting exercise."

The older glaive raised an eyebrow at his words, but a smile quirked up at the corner of his lips as he takes the training weapon and shoots a finger gun at him. "Back at you."

Weapon returned, Gladio circled around Nyx and hurried after his superior. Cor's steady pace gave him an ample amount of time to catch up as they made their way out of the courtyard and into the Citadel. The lavish dark marble halls glimmered against the artificial lights. It made Gladio long for the outside again.

"Cross-division training? I'm sure you have a better explanation than his laughable excuse." Cor commented wryly once they were out of hearing range of the Kingsglaive.

"A misunderstanding sir," admitted Gladio. "I was out of uniform and one of the glaives thought I was a recruit."

"Did they now?" scoffed Cor in dry amusement. "I suppose it cannot be helped. It's not like there are many young Crownsguards joining nowadays."

"I'll be sure to wear my uniform before I arrive at the Citadel from now on. This won't happen again," Gladio assured him.

"...I had wondered what broke your perfect attendance," noted the older Crownsguard. "No matter. You look like you enjoyed the exchange".

"..Sir?" Gladio frowned in confusion.

"You may do as you please with the Kingsglaive, so long as it's not during your hours of duty." Cor dismissed.

"Uh… understood," said Gladio, before he glanced to Cor in question. "I know I was late sir, but was there a reason that you were looking for me personally?"

"Ah yes. About Aracelis Hester, that girl is in service to your family, correct?" asked Cor.

"Yes sir, she's a family friend," replied Gladio with furrowed brows. "Did she do something wrong?"

"No, nothing of the sort," reassured Cor when he noticed the concern on the younger man's face. "She dropped off the prince at the gates a couple of weeks ago. The guards mentioned she didn't drive him directly in because there was someone without clearance in her car at the time. She's not in trouble if that's your concern."

"…Someone without clearance in her car?" repeated Gladio thoughtfully. Of all the people he could imagine his childhood friend letting into her car, he could likely count them all on one hand. However, ones without clearance to the Citadel, the only person he could think of was… "Prompto."

"Prompto?" repeated Cor with interest.

"Ah, he's somewhat of a charity case that Aracelis took interest in recently," explained Gladio. "He's harmless. I wouldn't worry too much about a security breach, if he's the one in her car."

"I see," confirmed Cor. "Thanks for satisfying my curiosity then, Gladiolus. I'll leave you to return to your duties then."

"Yes sir," confirmed Gladio.

Cor left him once they've reached the main halls. Idly, Gladio wondered why Prompto and the prince were in Aracelis' car. However, he was more alarmed she caught the attention of Crownsguard. While he's certain his childhood friend would never do anything treasonous against the crown, he couldn't say he understood half the things she does on a regular basis.

* * *

"…Starscourge is a 2000-year-old plague that somehow resurfaced in the last 200 years?" murmured Aracelis in surprise.

Truthfully, she couldn't remember much about the details of the scourge from her last life. To her, it was just a creative explanation to justify why monsters disappeared after they were defeated. She knew it had a deeper connection to the lore and the decade of darkness, but she was more focused with quest completion rather than the lore. Nevertheless, she hoped the research would've bought her more time with Ignis, but she didn't think the other teen would be so efficient and quick about it.

A deep frown marred her face as she walked through the halls, immersed with Ignis' research. She needed more time to think of another topic to keep him busy. More than once, other students had stepped out of the way to avoid colliding with her in her inattentive state. For those who didn't, Ignis reached out to redirect the distracted girl.

The first time he did so, the quiet teen hastily pulled away, embarrassed with apologies at the ready. However, when he realized Aracelis hadn't even noticed, the apologies died at his lips and it became a regular occurrence for him to move her out of harm's way without a word.

"You'd think someone would've thought to create a vaccine for the scourge," muttered Aracelis as she flipped through the notes. "From what you've found, it sounds like a virus."

"An interesting suggestion," commented Ignis thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should delve into the field of microbiology."

"Hmm… I can't say I'm interested in the field enough to make a career out of it," noted the girl before the growing chatter from the student body caught her attention. She hadn't realized they've reached the cafeteria. "Why don't you go find seats? I'll go get us some coffee."

"Aracelis, a moment?" requested Ignis before she made her way towards the counter.

"What?" asked Aracelis, stopping mid-step before glancing up at him.

"Let's forgo coffee for today," suggested the taller teen.

"…What? Why?" frowned Aracelis.

Up until now, she always got him coffee in exchange for his help. It was the only excuse she had in order to continue associating with him.

This is the reason that she bothered waiting on line to get him coffee every day, even though it was an utter waste of time. Why it takes five minutes for someone to pour a cup of black coffee with no sugar or milk was beyond her. On bad days, it can even take over ten minutes to get to the counter. Logically, she could save some time if she made it at home, but then she would have to lug it around all day in a thermos.

Not to mention the inelegance of having to wait for Ignis to finish his drink in order to get the container back. Regardless, it doesn't matter if she buys it or makes it herself at this point. There was little else she could think of to offer in order to continue approaching him and she couldn't risk waiting under the time constraint. As things were now, she needed to find a way for him to meet Noctis.

"…There won't be enough time for you to eat, if you wait on line for coffee," replied Ignis evenly, regaining her attention.

"Time to eat?" repeated Aracelis in confusion. "Uh… I'm not sure how long it takes you, but I assure you it doesn't take long for me to eat a granola bar."

"While I'm aware of your choice of poor diet, I cannot in good conscience allow you to continue," stated Ignis. "Especially when the reason you chose to eat granola bars is to save time and the time you gain from such practice in turn is being used to provide me with coffee."

"So… are you telling me to get you lunch instead of coffee?" queried Aracelis with uncertainty. "Because I'm not following."

"I'm saying I made you lunch," replied Ignis in exasperation as he held up a small discreet looking canvas bag.

"…Oh." The freckled girl stared at him, dumbfounded by the food offer. "That's… unexpected."

Of all the things that could happen, a homemade lunch from Ignis Scientia was definitely not one of the possibilities in her calculations. Aracelis found herself at a loss for words.

Ignis faltered, lowering the bag, "I suppose it was rather presumptuous on my part."

Her thoughts ran a mile a minute as she tried to understand what was happening. She came to see her interactions with the quiet teen as strictly business, brief impersonal transactions. This? This is out of her jurisdiction.

"My apologies," amended Ignis. He took a step back, ready to turn-tail and leave. "You don't have to eat it if you prefer not to. I shouldn't have—"

She grabbed hold of his arm before he could attempt to flee. While she had no clue what on earth was going on, this was the golden opportunity she was waiting for.

"No, you definitely should have!" interrupted Aracelis firmly. She needn't think about what to say to start up a conversation if Ignis' cooking was the topic. He enjoyed cooking after all. What could go wrong? "Actually, I have always wanted to try out your cooking."

"Indeed?" noted Ignis with a delicately raised brow. "I don't believe I've ever told you about my cooking..."

"I-it," spluttered Aracelis indignantly, she clenched her jaw briefly to keep from losing her composure. The other teen caught her off guard and she had foolishly forgotten that they haven't spoken enough for her to casually know about his hobbies. "It doesn't mean I don't want to try it! You made it for me, so I'm going to eat it."

"…If you insist," continued Ignis despite the apprehension on his face. "Shall we relocate?"

"To your usual spot?" quipped Aracelis. She wasn't sure if she managed to salvage the situation, but at least it wasn't a complete loss.

"Indeed," nodded Ignis before he moved his free hand to adjust his glasses. "Um… but before that, do you mind returning my arm?"

Aracelis blinked, her gaze trailed down to the aforementioned limb. Belatedly, she released her hold on his arm and dropped her hand to her side. A tenuous bout of relief washed over Ignis as he took a step back to regain his personal space. He gave Aracelis a rather perplexed look before turning his heel and leading the way out of the school halls.

For the last two months, getting coffee, trekking through the courtyard and ambling her way towards his obscure alcove became her daily routine. On bad days, she'd waste over half her lunchbreak waiting on line to order coffee. This was the first time she was going there for lunch.

Even so, she refrained from commentary to avoid accidentally offending Ignis a second time. The quiet teen seemed rather skittish as he laid out a neatly packed container for each of them. Aracelis took note of the colorful assortment of vegetables and pasta. Visually, it was heavier than what she normally ate while at school, but it wasn't something that would induce digestion drowsiness later.

"I'm not sure what you liked to eat, so I thought pasta primavera was a safe avenue." Ignis offered a tentative explanation as he handed her a fork. "You're not allergic to anything are you?"

"I'm not a picky eater and I don't think I'm allergic to anything," replied Aracelis as she accepted the offered fork.

With some trepidation, she gingerly poked into the pasta primavera, careful to get a little of everything onto the fork. Though cooled, she could still smell the aroma of roasted garlic and cheese wafting from the container. As she took in her first bite, she found the mild flavors to be rather pleasant and delicious.

"Huh, this is actually really good," said Aracelis in surprise before she happily dug in.

Although she knew Ignis was touted as a chef in the original timeline, she thought his cooking was more akin to five star restaurants with eccentric and aberrant flavors. In actuality, his food tasted like homemade comfort. Having bounced from one caretaker to the next in her previous life, her meals were often takeout or microwavable frozen dinners. She seldom had the chance to eat something that was homemade. By the time she reached adulthood in that life, she had resigned to ordering food out of habit and convenience.

This life was decidedly different. Despite what Ignis says about her diet of granola bars, she genuinely enjoys home cooked meals. How could she not when her mother Selene put such loving effort into her meals on a regular basis? It was one of the reasons why it was so easy to accept her place in this new life. Of course, there were downsides to having such a doting mother. The woman, though kind and sweet, was a tyrant when it came to her pristine kitchen. Neither Aracelis nor her father Alder dare to make anything beyond tea and coffee while in her domain.

"I'm glad to see you enjoy it," commented Ignis, relief clear on his face.

"You know… It kind of reminds me of my mom's cooking," stated the brunette with fondness tinting in her voice as she shuffled the pieces of vegetables for easier stabbing.

"Like your mother's cooking?" repeated the bespectacled teen curiously. "How so?"

"I don't know how to cook, so I can't really point out where it's similar but…" paused Aracelis thoughtfully before she glanced up to the other teen with a warm smile. "It was a nice surprise. I don't mind if we do this again."

Ignis' sage green eyes widened briefly, surprised by the sudden and uninhibited smile from the brunette. He had seen her smile many times before, but those were often restrained or sardonic in nature. Ignis found himself a bit stunned and somewhat rewarded to receive such a rare soft expression.

"…I suppose I wouldn't be against it," answered Ignis politely, unsure ofwhat else to say in response.

The two continued the rest of their meal in relative silence. While neither of them were completely at ease with one another, it was comparatively better than the awkward exchange they shared outside the cafeteria. They were still far from being friends, but at least they were a bit above normal acquaintances. For that, Aracelis felt grateful. It made her life a little bit easier if their lunch outings were to continue. She doesn't have to worry about finding another reason to talk to Ignis. She just had to find a way to get him to meet Nocits instead.

Except… Ignis wasn't who she should have been worried about.

_Ring, Ring!_

Aracelis frowned in bewilderment when her phone rang barely ten minutes after classes ended. A quick glance showed Gladio's name. It was odd for him to call her when he was technically still on the clock for his Crownsguard duty.

"Gladio?" questioned Aracelis after she swiped the screen to answer the call.

"Hey Arie," started Gladio casually. "Quick question, you wouldn't happen to know where the prince is, do you?"

"Why would I know where he is?" snapped Aracelis, indignant that he would assume that she'd know… Albeit, she does from mapping out the prince's arcade patterns, but she wasn't about to admit it.

"Listen, he's been skipping out on a lot of training" explained Gladio. "In short of marching down to his school the moment it lets out to drag his ass back to the Citadel, I can't think of a better way to catch him without causing a scene."

"I'm surprised you're even considerate enough to come to that conclusion," noted Aracelis dryly.

"The kid may be a brat, but he is still the prince," groused the Amicitia. "It does the Crown no favors if the populace thinks poorly of him."

"Spoken like a true shield," complimented Aracelis, in a sad attempt to reinforce as much positivity as she could. There was so little of it between him and Noctis, it made it hard to get them to tolerate each other, let alone like one another.

"Just because I hate the brat doesn't mean I'm not going to take my job seriously," scoffed Gladio. "So, can you find out where he is for me or not?"

"What are you going to do when you find him? Beat him over the head like a caveman and lug him back to the Citadel?" asked the girl as she shouldered her phone so she could pack away her things.

"I'll think of something," replied the other.

"How reassuring," stated Aracelis brusquely. "Considering he hates your guts as much as you hate him. Honestly, have you ever tried being nice to him?"

"That's rich, coming from you," retorted Gladio. She didn't need to see him to know he was rolling his eyes at her.

"What are you talking about? I'm the epitome of kindness," said Aracelis, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Woodland creatures come to my aid when I sing."

"Maybe if they're tone deaf or daemons," snorted Gladio. "I'll be waiting by the front gates for you. Come when you're ready."

"…Wait, you're outside?" said Aracelis in disbelief. "What if I'd said no?"

"Then I would've—what was it that you said earlier? Beat you over the head like a caveman and carry you off?" joked Gladio.

"You're incorrigible," huffed the girl.

"See you soon Arie," laughed Gladio heartily.

Without another word, Aracelis ended the call with an exasperated sigh. She tucked the loose strands of hair that came undone from her once neat bun behind her ear before she started swiping her phone's screen for her notes on Noctis' schedule. Just when things were looking up, Gladio had to throw a wrench in her plans. She should've known he was going to ask her to help with hunting down Noctis when the boy skipped out on one too many training sessions.

"You sound rather frustrated," asked Ignis considerately. "Is everything okay?"

"Okay's not quite the word I'd choose when it comes to Gladio and his bias," muttered Aracelis. Her brows furrowed as she went through the list and mentally calculated how much time she had in coming up with a resolution before she figuratively releases the prince's acerbic shield on him. "I doubt he'll cause a scene later, but… we'll see."

"You don't sound certain," frowned Ignis.

"Gladio…" She paused, trying to find the right way to describe her childhood friend before giving up and bluntly continuing. "While he's well-disciplined, it's somewhat of a crapshoot when he loses his temper."

"I see," murmured Ignis pensively as she finished setting up the navigation and went about packing her things. "…Would you mind if I accompanied you?"

"What? You intend to act as my meat shield if he goes berserk?" commented the girl wryly as she looped the strap of her messenger briefcase over her shoulder. "Or are you going to try to take him on?"

"Do I look like the sort to resort to violence?" deadpanned Ignis.

"Ah, then you intend to serenade him with reason," quipped Aracelis jovially. "Good luck with that, not just anyone can convince Gladio to—"

The brunette paused as she pressed her lips against the back of her knuckles in consideration. Not anyone could convince Gladio, but Ignis wasn't just anyone. He was the voice of reason. If anyone who could silver tongue someone into submission, the prince's adviser was definitely the person to do it.

"Aracelis?" Ignis' concern laced voice snapped her out of her thoughts before she returned her attention to him.

"_You_ are going to talk reason into Gladio's thick head," decided Aracelis brightly.

"What? But I never agreed to—" protested Ignis, but his objection went ignored.

"Come on, no time to waste!" dismissed Aracelis as she took quick strides out of the room preventing any further attempt from the taller teen to back out.

She wasn't sure if he was going to follow, but when she heard the familiar cadence of his steady footsteps catching up, a smile crept up on her face. It was surprising for him to volunteer to come along before she set the dauntless task of persuading Gladio on his shoulders. However, between this and lunch, she wasn't sure what she did to gain Ignis'... What was their relationship anyhow? A bit more than acquaintanceship, but not quite friendship, at least not yet.

Regardless of what they were, Gladio's displeasure towards Noctis actually worked in her favor in this instance. Now, she had an excuse for Ignis to meet the prince.

* * *

When Ignis decided to make the conspiracy-prone brunette lunch, it was to assuage the guilt he felt after calculating how much time and money the girl spent in getting him coffee. Every time he appeared to back out of helping her, she would latch onto his arm with a peculiar level of desperation. Her level of dedication felt out of place even for the sake of her delusional theories.

This made him reconsider if that fake attempt at friendship was actually fake at all.

Apart from the older Amicitia teen, Ignis has never seen Aracelis interact with anyone that was remotely close to a friend. This odd acquaintanceship they share might actually be the closest thing either of them have to a friendship while attending Valetis. He and Aracelis were similar in that neither of them spoke to their peers much. They differ in that the shorter girl would be more caustic with her words whereas he would maintain politeness in his.

…Much like now. Aracelis dragged Ignis along past tall decorative pillars surrounding lush trees and fountains leading out of the academy. When they approached the school gates they found Gladio, arms crossed and back leaning on the brick archway as other wandering students walked by making their exit.

"Took you long enough," he greeted them dryly.

"I can't believe you just showed up assuming I was going to help you," huffed Aracelis once she was in range. It took Gladio no more than a second to take notice of Ignis' presence before he glanced to the shorter girl once more.

"I know you said he was an important classmate the last time we met, but is there something you want to tell me? Or is this something you want me to keep from your mother Selene?"

"Ha-ha," retorted Aracelis sharply. "Save your big brother teasing for Iris when she's old enough to get a boyfriend. Besides, Ignis is not here for me, he's here to _serenade_ you."

At her words, Gladio raised an eyebrow and glanced to Ignis again in question. The normally stoic teen shook his head in frantic disconcertion. Much like how she introduced him the first time he met Gladio, her words were vague and left it up for a multitude of interpretations. It was unclear if the brunette's unfortunate turn of phrasing was intentional or not. He's glad that the older teen understood that whatever Aracelis said needed to be taken with far more context than what's available.

"… Arie, I love you as a friend and sister, but honestly, you need to work on how you phrase things," criticized Gladio, annoyance clear on his face.

"What?" frowned Aracelis, oblivious to the cause of his ire.

"For the sake of brevity, Aracelis volunteered me to advise you on relationship niceties," interjected Ignis before the girl could make the situation more awkward. "She hasn't informed me on the specifics as to why you're at odds with this individual, but she believes that I can convince you to get along with him. Despite the fact that I know nothing of your circumstances."

"…You think this guy can somehow convince me to like the brat prince?" asked Gladio in disbelief.

"Tolerate," corrected Aracelis with a raised finger as if to make a point. "Let's get you to _tolerating_ the prince before we get you to liking him."

Ignis blinked in surprise as she stormed past her displeased friend and off school property. The muscular teen engaged her in a heated argument as they made their way towards her car. The prince wasn't who the quiet teen expected Gladio to be at odds with, not when the Amicitias were supposed to act as the sworn shield to the Crown. Aracelis' conspiracy obsession almost made sense, now that Gladio was part of the equation.

He initially assumed her odd obsession was due to a strong sense of patriotism. However, it was more reasonable if she was doing it for the sake of a friend. Her derisive demeanor aside, the girl does have a heart even if she's not particularly good at showing it, as indicative by Prompto's apparent terror at her overbearing concern.

"No, you're sitting in the back so you can talk to Ignis!" reproached Aracelis when the Amicitia teen tried to take the front seat.

"Hell no! Your backseat is cramped," refused Gladio.

"It's technically _your_ car," countered Aracelis.

"I'm not sitting in the back," asserted the muscular teen stubbornly.

"Then you drive so Ignis can sit in the front with you," said Aracelis as she prodded a stern finger at his chest. "Either way, you're talking to him so you fix whatever it is you have against the prince."

Watching the heated exchange between the two friends was far more interesting than Ignis would like to admit. Their amusing bickering consisted of a mix of ceaseless insults and arguing that varied in logic and childishness, resting soundly in the absurd. Each of them was stubborn in their own way, but ultimately Aracelis won out. Gladio took to the driver's seat in grumpy defeat while the shorter girl grinned smugly enjoying her well-earned victory over the other. It's a wonder that she even bothered with asking Ignis for his assistance with the prince's shield. It seemed to him that she could easily strong arm Gladio verbally into getting along with the prince by herself.

An incredulous and mildly amused scoff escaped his lips as he made his way to the front passenger seat. Speaking of getting verbally strong-armed, Ignis noticed Aracelis turning her attention to him, triumph clear on her face. Backing out now was an act of futility, he no longer had a choice much like Gladio. It made him almost regret indulging her… almost.

"It might be easier to have Aracelis force the prince to get along with you rather than trying to convince you to tolerate him," commented Ignis offhandedly amidst the looming silence in the car.

"You're supposed to reason with Gladio, not side with him," griped the brunette.

"Is it not true though?" mused the straight-faced teen. "You have a way with subjugating people to your will, do you not?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" frowned Aracelis.

"It means you're a bossy bitch," roared Gladio with laughter as he slapped the steering wheel. "You know what, I like this friend of yours. He's not so bad."

"I'm glad you approve," deadpanned the girl humorlessly. "But that still doesn't solve the issue between you and the prince."

Ignis glanced at the rearview mirror to the sour expression on the brunette's freckled face. She was vexed by Gladio's mirth, but she hadn't denied his assumption of their friendship.

"There's no fixing this," dismissed the Amicitia.

"Why not try finding a redeeming quality of the prince?" suggested Ignis, drawing his attention away from the mirror and towards Gladio once more. "Rather than forcing yourself to accept him, find something about him you think is acceptable."

"There's nothing acceptable about that brat," stated Gladio bluntly.

"You haven't even tried!" snapped Aracelis.

"What exactly do you dislike about the prince then?" asked Ignis when it seemed like they were at an impasse regarding the older teen's disposition.

"We'll be here till doomsday if you let him rant about what he dislikes about the prince," grumbled Aracelis. "From how he talks to how he walks, Gladio will find something to gripe about."

"That's because you don't have to deal with the brat on a regular basis!" countered Gladio.

As the two fell into yet another heated argument, Ignis decided to cease his attempts with the older teen. There was simply no point in him doing so with Aracelis inadvertently rekindling the Amicitia's ire. Idly, he wondered how these two ever get through a conversation when it seems like they're constantly at odds with one another.

By the time they reached their destination, the stoic teen felt like an unwitting hostage dragged along by his captors. Neither Gladio nor Aracelis stopped bickering even after the car was parked and they were en route through the busy streets of Insomnia.

"Enough!" snapped Ignis, finally losing his temper. The level of mortification in trailing after them was insurmountable. The last time he witnessed such behavior was back in grade school when his peers were all inconsolable children.

Gladio and Aracelis fell silent, startled by his uncharacteristic loudness. It appears that they've forgotten his presence in the midst of quarreling with one another.

"The two of you will cease bickering at once!" commanded Ignis, sage green eyes alight with ire. "Regardless of your stance on the prince, we are in a public space. Neither of you are children, so act appropriately according to your station! And don't either of you dare try to blame each other. You're both behaving like juveniles."

Neither of them verbally apologized, but the shift in their body language was more than enough to tell him otherwise. Eyes averted, Gladio rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Similarly, Aracelis latched onto the crook of her right arm with her left hand as she glanced elsewhere. Ignis noted with pleasure that the two had the decency to appear embarrassed and ashamed by their actions. He didn't see the need to chide them any further. However, before he could decide on what to do next, the sound of a camera shutter snapping caught their attention.

_Click, sha-shick!_

The three followed the source of the sound and found a bewildered Noctis staring at them along with Prompto who unabashedly snapped yet another picture of the group.

"…I have no clue who you are," started Noctis quietly. A soft chortle escaped his lips, followed by a wry grin. "But you're officially the coolest person I know to be able to do that to them."

Face red, Ignis adjusted his glasses to hide his embarrassment from the compliment. In hindsight, he felt rather out of character to speak so brazenly when he shared so little familiarity with Aracelis and her childhood friend. Then again, the girl did happen to drag him out of his comfort zone. Under such circumstances, he decided it was natural for him to act out of character.

He might not know everyone present intimately, but it seems that Aracelis has a knack for drawing out the unexpected from those around her. Gladio, who appears well-disciplined on first impression, devolved into a childish argument within minutes of her presence. Prompto, who was shy and self-conscious the last he saw him, grew bold enough to snap photos of this nonsensical episode. As for Prince Noctis, Ignis has never personally met him before, but the younger boy seemed open and friendly contrary to what he heard in the car.

All in all, Ignis wasn't sure what to make of this. He felt as if he had gotten himself deep into something he shouldn't have and that it was far too late to go back to the way things were. To his surprise, this notion didn't bother him. Compared to his old routine, he found this far more interesting and even exhilarating. After much deliberation, Ignis decided it wasn't so bad to indulge Aracelis and her odd whims.


	6. UO06: A Slice of Life

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Six: A Slice of Life**

_Knock, knock!_

"Big sister Arie, may we come in?" chimed Selene cheerfully from the other side of her daughter's bedroom door. She sat with her knees on the ground holding Talcott up by the underside of his arms. The small baby stood on his tiptoes, toddling as he struggled to balance himself.

"Awie!" Six-month-old Talcott mimicked her actions slapping his pudgy hand against the smooth wooden surface.

"…Can I say no?" returned Aracelis dully. Unknown to Selene, the younger Hester was secretly playing a mobile game on her phone with the sound turned off.

"Pretty please? Talcott wants to see his big sister!" chirped Selene.

The room fell silent for a moment before the sound of a rolling chair and soft footsteps announced Aracelis' movement towards the door. A jiggle and a soft click later, the door opened. The disgruntled freckle-faced girl looked puzzled for a second before she turned her attention downwards and spotted Selene smiling up at her. Talcott bounced excitedly at the sight of his sister and attempted to walk to her with the help of his mother's guiding hold.

"Awie!" squealed Talcott in delight. He clapped his hands excitedly holding up his arms to indicate he wanted to be picked up.

"No," stated Aracelis bluntly, refusing to kneel down to pull him into her arms.

Despite the heartwarming display, the girl's frigid demeanor failed to soften. At her dismissal, Talcott's lower lip trembled, his light hazel eyes glistening with the threat of tears.

"Oh come on Arie, he wants you," cooed Selene gently. She pulled Talcott into her lap and grasped his ankles lightly to tap his feet together. The threat of tears abated and he was temporarily distracted from Aracelis' rejection. "Honestly, how could you treat him like the scourge? You were never this cold towards Iris when she was a baby."

"… I also didn't live with Iris," sassed the brunette offhandedly.

"Aracelis Hester!"

At this, the brunette flinched in surprise.

It wasn't often Selene used that tone. Whenever she did, Aracelis always averted her gaze and shifted uncomfortably as if she were a child all over again.

Selene has long learned the little habits and quirks of her eldest. She understood a long time ago that her daughter's cold exterior could be off-putting to most. Aracelis seldom made many, if any, friends. It just wasn't in her daughter's personality to be considerate of other people's feelings. Even so, Selene knows in her heart that Aracelis has the capacity to care. Her daughter just needs a little push in the right direction from time to time.

"I can understand your need for time and space during the school year for your studies and whatever activities you're involved with. But it's summer break! Spend some time with your little brother," finished Selene. She held out Talcott for her daughter to take.

"…Fine," muttered Aracelis relenting. She reluctantly reached out for the baby boy.

At the sight of his sister's arms, Talcott's attention drew away from their mother's distraction methods and squealed in delight. He scrambled off his mother's lap into her arms. Aracelis stumbled at the sudden weight and quickly readjusted her hold. The toddler, oblivious to her fumbling, giggled and nestled happily against her. Despite her reserved demeanor, the older girl took a breath of relief once he settled.

"Was that so bad?" grinned Selene brightly. She clapped her hands together in triumph resting the side of her cheek against them.

Aracelis sighed, her dark brown eyes glanced suspiciously to her grinning mother. "…Mother, what is it that _you're really _here for?"

"I need to run out to get some groceries," chirped Selene. Her tone suggested no remorse at being caught with this ulterior motive. "Can you be a dear and watch your brother for a bit?"

"What?" cried Aracelis in disbelief and began to protest vehemently. "But I know nothing about the intricacies of motherhood!"

"Pish-posh," dismissed Selene chuckling. "Don't think I didn't notice you watching while I was taking care of your brother. You know how I do things."

"But—"

"—And!" Selene continued before her daughter could get another word in edgewise. "I know you have contingency plans in case anything ever happens. Am I wrong?"

"…No," agreed the girl grudgingly, resigning to her mother's will.

"That's my girl!" gushed Selene merrily. She stood up from the ground to cup Aracelis's face and peck her quickly on the forehead before doing the same to Talcott. "Now, you be a good boy for your big sister. Mommy will be back as soon as possible."

"… I still don't see why you can't just take him with you," noted her daughter.

"I'll make your favorite," sang Selene.

"… That isn't much of a bribe," stated Aracelis bluntly. "Since, you always make my favorite."

"And_ dessert_," continued the woman teasingly.

"Just go," sighed Aracelis in exasperation.

"Oh, you never let me have any fun," huffed Selene, woeful and dramatic.

Aracelis rolled her eyes, long since used to her mother's antics. She retreated into her room with Talcott in her arms and closed the door. Selene couldn't resist the giggle that escaped her as she turned to leave. It was nice to see her daughter act like an exasperated teenager instead of the overly studious rule abiding standard she insists on upholding.

Selene made her way to the local market. The crisp air accompanied by the warm afternoon sun added a pep to her step. It was a lovely day for food shopping, but that didn't keep anxious thoughts from filling up her mind with worry. Selene just couldn't fathom why her daughter was ever so serious. Both Selene and her husband Alder showed Aracelis nothing but love and support. When she was a child they always had to encourage her to do more things for children her own age.

However, Aracelis never seemed to take an interest in the normal activities meant for kids in her age group. Most children begged their parents for toys and park playdates, but in the Hester family, it was the opposite. Selene had to bargain with her daughter to get her to play with other children. Her father-in-law, Jared, reasoned that she was simply a child with an old soul. He assured her that it was hardly abnormal nor a cause for worry.

Groceries procured, Selene paid for her purchases and left the store. With how quickly Aracelis matured, she was concerned that her daughter would miss out on the little things in life. Making friends and having fun are things that children should enjoy while they still have their youth. If only—

_Riiiip!_

"Oh!" yelped Selene.

Her paper bag tore open, unceremoniously dropping its contents all over the ground.

"Oh darn! I knew I should've brought my own bag," lamented the woman with a defeated sigh.

She stared mournfully at her scattered groceries and baby diapers littered all over the sidewalk. In hindsight, she really should've brought her car. She didn't intend to buy diapers, but she couldn't resist as they were on sale. How was she going to get everything home without a bag? She could go back to the market, but it felt horrible leaving a mess in the middle of the busy pedestrian walk.

As she troubled over her dilemma, a young man exiting the same market came upon her situation.

"Ma'am, you look rather flustered. Do you need some help?" the soft spoken young man offered.

Selene drew her attention away from the mess on the ground and took notice of the green-eyed teen peering at her, his own durable bag of groceries strung over his shoulder.

"Oh! If you don't mind the trouble sweetheart that would be wonderful!" said the woman in relief. "I don't live very far away,"

"It's no trouble at all," reassured the teen as they proceeded to gather her groceries and pile them neatly into his sturdy bag.

"Thank you so much! You are so polite!" gushed Selene as they finished up and began walking together. "You know, my girl is about your age. If only she could be half as considerate as you are and—Oh! Listen to me go off, I never even asked for your name."

"…Ignis," answered the young man hesitantly, clearly unused to being around someone as bubbly and excitable as Selene.

* * *

When Ignis went through his weekly routine of picking up groceries, he hadn't expected to come across the distraught mother and her bag mishap. Naturally, he offered her his assistance. It was common decency after all. Selene was a friendly woman and by the time they made their way off the busy streets and into the residential area, she had given him more compliments than anyone else he's ever met. It bordered on uncomfortable at some point.

Despite his discomfort, Ignis remained politely silent. He said nothing apart from nods and subtle acknowledgements as the woman directed them to her house. Selene eventually took notice of his discomfort and thankfully allowed the rest of the walk to fall into a pleasant silence with the exception of her absent-minded humming.

Slowly, but surely, they eventually arrived at a quaint two-floored house with a blue roof and a neatly trimmed hedge fence. The neighborhood was definitely among the higher tax bracket if the absurdly huge mansion next door with a three-door garage was any indication. Selene had a skip in her stride as she made her way up the front steps to unlock the door. Ignis allowed his gaze on the house to linger for a brief second before shouldering their weighty bag of groceries higher and followed her up the steps. Selene helpfully kept the door open for him as he stepped into the foyer.

"I can't thank you enough," said Selene gratefully. She closed the door behind him and moved to relieve him of the heavy bag of groceries. "Why don't you go take a seat in the living room while I get everything sorted? I'll even pack you some homemade treats for helping me!"

"Erm… you don't have to—"

"Nonsense!" huffed Selene, cutting his protest short and ushered him down the hall with a firm push. "It's the least I can do and it won't take long at all. Go, go!"

Ignis glanced at Selene helplessly. The woman pushed him towards the door to the living room before taking a right into the kitchen. He took in a deep breath, resigning to the unexpected wait. It made him almost regret helping her, but he was quick to dismiss the thought. Selene was only trying to repay him even though he didn't expect her to do anything of the sort.

With his groceries held hostage, he stepped into the living room with the intent of finding a seat and waiting out however long it will take Selene to unpack her purchases and return his. What he didn't expect to see was Aracelis seated at the soft baby blue couch, reading to a small child in her lap. He did a double take not quite trusting his vision. He was taken aback at seeing her in plain regular clothing for the first time. He had grown so used to seeing her in the proper Valetis uniform, consisting of a fine black and silver lined blazer with matching knee length skirt. It was jarring seeing her barefooted, sporting a loose ponytail, shorts and a baggy Li'l Malbuddy T-shirt.

"… In the line of kings, Queen Crepera Lucis Caelum was the first woman to take throne after the death of her father and brother," read Aracelis steadily.

The lack of inflection in her voice made her sound like she was delivering a report rather than reading to a child. It also didn't help that what she was reading happened to be his report on the Kings of Lucis that he made for her several months ago. On the one hand he was flattered that she still kept the report and continued to read it despite the fact that it failed to prove her paranoia.

On the other, it was obvious that the brunette had no idea how to entertain a child. Ignis had no experience himself, but he at least knew detailed research papers were not something a toddler would be interested in. Even so, the boy in her lap didn't make much of a fuss. He seemed content with shoving the entirety of his fist into his mouth. For someone who's supposed to be mindful of her charge, Aracelis was rather negligent with how engrossed she was in her reading.

Unsurprising to Ignis, Aracelis wasn't very much different from her normal demeanor at school. The girl remains oblivious to her surroundings whenever she's caught up in reading. Curious, Ignis made his way towards her, wondering if she would notice... She didn't. He walked halfway into the room and planted himself on the matching blue loveseat adjacent to hers. The toddler in her lap looked at him curiously, but Aracelis continued to read, clueless to his presence.

Amusement filled the quiet teen. A smile bloomed on his lips as he crossed his legs and folded his hands at his knee. The toddler stared at him with a confused tilt to his head and unintentionally began a staring contest. Ignis gave the toddler a soft smile and a slight wiggle of his fingers as a wave. Eventually, the boy decided that he had stared enough and pulled his drool-covered fist out of his mouth with a pop and began tugging at Aracelis' arm.

"Awie!" called out the boy.

At first, she didn't seem to take notice of him, but children seldom give up easily. Ignis fought back a chuckle as the boy continued to pry for her attention, going as far as slobbering her face with his drool-covered hand.

"Ew Talcott! That's gross!" yelped Aracelis in annoyance. She dropped the stack of research papers on the seat next to her, freeing her hand to wipe the baby slobber from her face. As she did so, she finally took notice of Ignis. Her dark brown eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in confusion. "What are you doing in my house?"

"I'm waiting for Selene to return my groceries," replied Ignis evenly. "I offered her my assistance when she had a mishap with her bag at the store."

"…In other words, my mother kidnapped you." She sighed. Her eyes closed briefly in exasperation before she reopened them with an annoyed roll of her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell her not to bring random strangers home?"

"This is a regular occurrence?" continued Ignis with a single raised brow.

"More often than I would like," groused Aracelis. "I apologize for my mother's behavior. She didn't say anything too embarrassing did she? She has a habit of being too friendly with people."

"I've noticed," replied Ignis dryly. "She's… very generous with her compliments."

"Yeah, she does that," agreed Aracelis.

A lull fell between them and the conversation came to an abrupt halt. Normally, the lack of conversation wouldn't bother them. They were perfectly content with sitting in silence with each other while they studied or did their schoolwork. However, they weren't in school now and neither of them had something to use as a means to engage comfortably without conversation.

"So… how's… your summer?" struggled Aracelis, clearly grasping at straws for a topic.

Between her and Ignis, Aracelis was definitely the weaker of the two when it came to social niceties. For others, it was transparent whenever she lost interest in conversing further, but to Ignis, she just seemed unwittingly honest. This made Aracelis come off as cold and uncaring. He slowly learned to understand that for Aracelis, putting the effort to ask is how she tries to care. She's just dreadful at it.

"You don't have to force yourself to converse for my sake," offered Ignis.

"Oh thank goodness," said Aracelis in relief.

"Though, to be fair. I doubt I've encountered anything this summer that can compare to meeting your mother," quipped the taller teen as an afterthought. "I've certainly never been invited into a stranger's house out of the blue."

"… I really question you and my mother's ability to trust complete strangers," muttered Aracelis. "For all you know, she could've been a serial killer and you could have ended up baked into a gross human meat pie."

"Surely not," scoffed Ignis. "I would have been a delicious human meat pie."

"…Pft," snorted Aracelis. "That's a horrible joke."

"And yet, you laughed," countered Ignis, mirth clear on his face.

"It's a pity laugh," retorted the girl. Her wry smile contradicted her words.

"Of course it is. My apologies for mistaking it otherwise," continued Ignis seriously, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away his impish jesting.

DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG!

Ignis and Aracelis glanced up, startled by the unhinged doorbell ringing. It was rather strange for someone to ring the door in such a manner. The frown on Aracelis' face made it clear that she wasn't expecting any more guests for the day. The neighborhood she lived in didn't seem like an area where pranksters would randomly stop by to ring the door either.

When the ringing didn't abate, Aracelis stood up and plopped Talcott unexpectedly into Ignis' arms. "Hold him for a bit. I'm going to check who's at the door."

Not expecting to suddenly have a toddler in his arms, Ignis scrambled to adjust his hold on the boy. Talcott's eyes trailed after his sister, unbothered by the fact that she had abandoned him with a complete stranger. A small consolation he supposed, since that meant the younger Hester was unlikely to wail and demand to be returned to his sister. Even so, Ignis was curious as to who was ringing the door and decided to follow, at a distance. Aracelis was clearly adamant about keeping her brother away from potential danger.

To her surprise when she opened her door, she was met with an equally baffled Prompto.

"What are you doing here?" blurted out the two in unison.

The blond was utterly flabbergasted by her presence, mirrored by Aracelis. Her brows furrowed in confusion unsure what to make of the turn of events.

"I live here," she answered dryly in a matter of fact tone. "If you didn't know that, why did you ring the door like a maniac?"

"Oh! I-I'm looking for Ignis. I saw him come into this house from Gladio's window," explained Prompto.

"...Why were you looking for Ignis? Wait—better question, why were you at Gladio's?" asked Aracelis.

"Oh, OH!" Prompto nearly screeched, flailing his arms in a panic. The surprise at seeing Aracelis had distracted him as to why he originally rang the door. "Noct and Gladio were supposed to train at the Citadel, but Noct didn't want to go. I know Gladio could get really hissy if you miss out his training so I told Noct I'll go with him. You know, sort of like moral support?"

"Get to the point Prompto," sighed Aracelis.

"Well, I don't have the clearance to go into the Citadel, but the big guy said we can move the training to his house instead. So, we ended up going to Gladio's house. Which by the way is a MANSION! It's ginormous! I mean, I know Noct lives in the Citadel and that's pretty huge, but man! Gladio's house is—"

Ignis raised an eyebrow. Mansion? Prompto stated he saw him enter Aracelis' house from Gladio's window, which meant… the Amicitias lived next door. It made a whole lot of sense why they were close, now that he knew they were neighbors. He glanced down to Talcott, noticing the toddler staring up at Prompto with interest. He can't blame the toddler for being curious. It's not every day he sees his sister interact with so many new strangers.

"Ugh…" groaned Aracelis. She slipped her hand under her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Why can't those two just get along?"

"That's why when I saw Ignis, I immediately ran over here for help. They looked like they were going to kill each other before I left," finished Prompto worriedly.

"Okay…Allow me a moment." She sighed, dropping her hand to her side as she glanced over her shoulder. "You might as well come along, it's going to be a while before my mother will let you leave. She's probably baking you something from scratch in the kitchen as we speak."

Ignis made no protest; he did not want to stay alone in the house with Selene if he wasn't going to get his groceries back anytime soon. Aracelis hastily made her way back down the hall and poked her head into the kitchen.

"Mother, I'm heading over to Gladio's!"

From where he stood, Ignis spotted Selene behind the island counter in the middle of lunch preparation. He glanced off to the side and found his bag of groceries neatly packed on a barstool. Peeking out the top of the bag was a clear goodie bag of baked goods tied with an ostentatious laced ribbon.

"Do you have to go now?" asked Selene in disappointment. "Lunch will be ready soon."

Lunch? Ignis blinked in surprise. This was far worse than Aracelis' exaggeration of Selene baking him something from scratch. He was starting to see where Aracelis got her presumptuous boldness from.

"Mother, did you even ask Ignis if he wanted to join us for lunch?" sighed Aracelis in exasperation.

"But you two sounded like you were having such a lovely time talking to each other," reasoned Selene. "You never told me you knew such a nice boy."

"Don't you even start," warned Aracelis. "I know you're trying to change the subject!"

"Oh! You always ruin my fun!" pouted Selene childishly. "If you're going over to Gladio's at least take Talcott with you so I can finish cooking."

"Fine," agreed Aracelis in annoyance. Without bothering to take Talcott back from Ignis, she grabbed his arm and began to drag him along. "Come on, let's go before she decides to pull out the family album."

"Erm… It was nice meeting your Mrs. Hester," said Ignis before he was completely yanked out of Selene's sight.

"I _better_ see you back here for lunch later!" Selene called after them cheerily. "Oh! Since you know Gladio and his little friends, be a dear and invite them over too."

Like mother, like daughter, Ignis resigned to the fate that he had no say when it came to either woman. He followed Aracelis out the door and down the front steps. The whole while, she didn't let go of his arm. Prompto eyed them oddly, before following along.

Ignis found himself staring down at Talcott and noted the toddler appeared to be excited at the sudden trip outside of his house. He wished he could share in the boy's enthusiasm regarding Aracelis' spontaneous actions.

Rather than going through the front door that was further down the block and ringing the bell, the girl walked up to the three-door garage and typed in the access code to open the door. His curiosity over how close Aracelis was to the Amicitias didn't falter. Just how close were they for her to have free access into their home?

* * *

_Clack, clack! BAM!_

Gladio struck the defeating blow, knocking the prince to the ground with his large training blade. Noctis wheezed, breathless and aggravated. His cold blue eyes glared up at his shield as he pulled the neck of his tee-shirt to wipe the sweat from his upper lip.

"I'm tired," huffed Noctis in annoyance. His breath was heavy and his limbs shook from exhaustion.

"Quit bitching and start moving!" snapped Gladio as he heaved the training sword over his shoulder and waited for the prince to get back on his feet. "If you skipped out on training less, you wouldn't be so out of shape."

Noctis' shoulders tensed, heckled by the Amicitia's words. His teeth clenched and the scowl on his face deepened. He glanced to his weapon for a brief moment before he tossed the training sword aside and defiantly plopped down to the ground with his arms and legs crossed.

"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Gladio, his voice low and strictly controlled.

"Taking a break, I'm tired," repeated the prince in defiance.

"Get up and pick up your sword," ordered the older teen.

"No," stated Noctis firmly.

"Your assessment is coming up soon," growled Gladio. "With your current performance, you're not going to last through the first ten minutes!"

Much to the Amicitia's displeasure, the dark-haired teen decidedly chose to say nothing and looked away. It took all of Gladio's self-restraint to not lift his training sword and bash the prince over the head out of frustration. The wooden handle creaked under his death grip. He turned his weapon blade down before slamming it to the ground. Partly to intimidate the prince, but mostly to keep himself from attacking the younger boy.

Noctis remained unfazed. It was as if the younger teen was daring him to do his worst, knowing full well Gladio could never harm him.

_BAM!_

The sound of a door slamming echoed through the halls, but neither Gladio nor Noctis bothered to look, too busy glaring at one another. Quick angry steps sped down the halls outside. Gladio didn't need to think twice to recognize them. He's heard Aracelis walk through these halls enough times to know. Another set of steady set of steps followed her, no doubt belonging to Prompto. He had wondered where the boy disappeared to when he left the room earlier.

Gladio should have known Prompto would get Aracelis involved at some point. The younger teen always reached out to her when things went south. While Gladio understood why she was fond of Prompto enough to go out of her way to help him, he couldn't understand why she did the same for the prince. He fully expected Aracelis to defend the prince, but to his surprise, her reprimand never came. Instead, what broke the tension in the room was the cheer of a toddler.

"Gladdy!" shouted Talcott gleefully at spotting Gladio and clapped his hands in celebration.

"You brought Talcott?" exclaimed Gladio, his attention turned away from Noctis to locate the small child.

Alongside Aracelis and Prompto was a rather flustered Ignis trying his best to hold the squirming Talcott in his arms. Determined to reach Gladio, the reckless toddler broke free, not realizing he would fall if he did so. Alarmed, the Amicitia heir darted forward to catch the boy before he could hit the ground.

"Ah-gen!" giggled Talcott, hugging Gladio as the muscular teen carefully stood up with the child cradled in his arms.

"Are you crazy? Why did you bring your kid brother here?" demanded Gladio, turning his full attention to Aracelis.

"Don't blame me, my mother told me to bring him," replied the girl bluntly. "Also, she wants you over for lunch. Prompto and the prince are invited as well."

"We're in the middle of training!" snapped Gladio.

"You want to tell my mother that?" challenged the freckled-face girl with a raised brow and her arms crossed.

Gladio gritted his teeth, knowing better than to answer. Much like Aracelis, he can't remember a time where Selene Hester wasn't in his life. Before his mother's death, she would often set him and Aracelis up on playdates and Selene would bake them copious amounts of _dainty sweet pastries_. After complications with Iris' birth and the loss of their mother, Selene became like their second mother, regularly inviting them over for meals and holiday festivities. There was no way he could refuse her request.

In the midst of his conundrum, out of the corner of his eye he noticed Noctis was no longer protesting on the ground. The dark-haired teen had gotten up and made his way to Prompto and Ignis by the door. He seemed rather pleased at the sight of Ignis, no doubt because of the tongue lashing the prim and proper teen gave him and Aracelis in their last meeting.

It was strange that the Scientia heir was present in his home. He's only met the teen twice before and they barely exchanged more than ten sentences with each other. There was a saying on how meeting someone once is chance, twice is coincidence and the third is a pattern.

"So, why is he here?" commented Gladio, nodding his head towards Ignis. "I thought you said you guys weren't a thing."

"You can blame my mother," deadpanned Aracelis. "She went to the market and came back with him as if he was part of her groceries. I swear, one of these days, they're going to end up in trouble for trusting strangers."

"… Somehow, I'm not surprised," muttered Gladio.

"Anyway," continued Aracelis offhandedly making her way behind him. She glanced to the other three in the room as she pushed the Amicitia along. "Let's get going before mother wonders why we're taking so long."

"Are you sure?" asked Prompto as she pushed Gladio past them and into the hallway. "We won't be a bother?"

"It's too late for you to back out now," reasoned the older girl. "Once you get my mother's attention, you're not going anywhere until she's fed you and packed you _goodie bags_ to take home. It's best to just get it over with."

Any protest they may have had was ignored. Aracelis herded the group towards her house, with her and Gladio leading the front.

"…You know you can't keep doing this." Gladio spoke quietly so the others wouldn't hear their conversation.

"I don't know what you're talking about," huffed Aracelis crossing her arms as she walked alongside him.

Behind them, Prompto was chatting away engaging both Noctis and Ignis in conversation. The prince interjected occasionally while the older teen listened patiently. Anyone looking in, not knowing anything about the group, would think they were friends.

"I'll let this one go because of Selene, but if you keep doing this, the brat prince is never going to grow," warned Gladio.

"I really don't understand why you're constantly so hard on him," said Aracelis in exasperation. "Giving him a break once in a while isn't going to ruin him."

"You don't know what—"

"BIRDIE!" shouted Talcott excitedly pointing to a bird flying overhead.

"Yes, Talcott, it's a bird." Aracelis responded dryly. The toddler grinned up at her despite her lack of enthusiasm.

"…By the way, why am I holding your brother?" asked Gladio.

"Because you're big, strong and I don't want to," stated the girl bluntly, unremorseful that she used him so readily. "So there."

Gladio snorted at her response. He should hand Talcott back just to spite her, but decided otherwise. As much as he hated how she cut in at every turn to help the prince, he appreciated that she came in when she did. With how Noctis behaved, he was almost tempted to murder the boy for his flippant attitude. Not that Gladio would have gone through with it. He wouldn't be much of a shield without a charge.


	7. UO07: Heartstopping

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Seven: Heartstopping**

Back straight, eyes forward, Gladio stood attention by the ornate walls of the spacious training hall with his hands folded neatly behind his back. Noctis took his quarterly training assessment against another Crownsguard. Among the audience for the evaluation were King Regis, his shield Clarus Amicitia and a number of royal advisors, all stone-faced and unimpressed.

The Amicitia heir fought back a grimace watching the proceedings. As the prince's personal trainer, he could tell the younger boy was starting to tire. His stamina was far from ideal. In a moment of desperation and exhaustion, Noctis chucked his weapon at his opponent. A flash of blue light streaked through the air followed by a soft explosion.

Noctis reappeared, letting out a tired battle cry and drove his sword down at the Crownsguard. The man saw through his attack and parried easily with a flick of his wrist. The raven-haired teen's weapon was diverted. His blue eyes widened in alarm when he found himself stumbling forward at the momentum. His opponent took the chance to close the distance and slide behind him to deliver a firm blow to the back of his head with the blunt hilt of the sword.

A choked scream escaped Noctis' lips. Losing his grip on his weapon he crumpled to the ground wheezing in pain. With the prince down, the Crownsguard paused and glanced up to the king for further instruction. King Regis closed his eyes and waved a hand to signal the end of the assessment. The guard dutifully raised a hand to his chest and snapped his feet together, painfully stiff in manner. The man bowed before turning his heel and taking an empty position by the wall, much like Gladio.

With the exception of Noctis' heavy breathing, no other individual dared to utter a sound. As part of the tradition for the assessment, no one was to interject until the royal of interest recomposed themselves from the test. Regardless how disappointed they were at the performance, they were all required to wait for the prince to regain his footing.

This wasn't the first time he's failed and it was clear in the prince's body language. Despite the tension in the room, the aloof prince remained indifferent to them. Noctis took his time catching his breath, leisurely dragging himself back onto his feet. By the time the younger boy managed to stand attention to his audience, both he and his shield knew the assessment had ended in failure. There was nothing they could say that he hadn't already heard and he didn't care. Even so, Gladio waited with trepidation for Regis to finally make his statement.

...Except the reprimandation never came. Much to Noctis and Gladio's surprise, King Regis stood from his seat and left the room in silence, leaving only the sound of his receding footsteps echoing the vast hall. In all the times Noctis took his assessments, there was always an order to the proceedings. The prince would fight, fail and then get reprimanded for his failings before getting suggestions on needed improvements. Never once had the king walked out without a word. Noctis, who had shown nothing but disinterest up to this point, stood stunned. He watched as slowly, one after another, the rest of the audience in attendance emptied the room until the only ones left were the prince and his shield.

The two glanced to one another as if silently trying to make sense of what's happened. The expansive room suddenly felt all the larger with their uncertainty. A dark sullen gaze met a perplexed watery one, neither had the answer. Instead, they found a mutual silent agreement.

Something was different about this assessment. The two were far from friends, but for the first time they were akin to comrades, locked in the same dread. It didn't feel right for Gladio to move, so he waited. They stood in a heavy silence before the prince finally worked up the nerve and turned to leave. The shield followed silently, his steady footsteps mirror after his charge as they exited the room. What waited for them on the other side of the door was the king's shield, Clarus Amicitia.

"Your highness," greeted the older Amicitia. "I need to have a word with Gladiolus."

At the request, Noctis glanced at his shield in alarm. Frozen in indecision, a myriad of emotions assault him again as he tries to ascertain what he should do. When the older teen averted his gaze, the avoidant response ultimately led him to disperse. Clarus waited until the prince was out of sight before he returned his attention back to his son.

"Gladiolus, you're relieved of your Crownsguard duties effectively immediately," informed Clarus coldly.

"WHAT?" exclaimed Gladio in disbelief.

"This is the prince's eighth failed assessment." Clarus began to explain.

"What does that have to do with me?" snapped the teen.

"Do not raise your voice at me!" boomed the older Amicitia. "The prince's training was your responsibility. His failing is your failing."

"But the little shit kept skipping training!"

_SLAP!_

The sound of Clarus' backhand resonated in the hall. His son stood stunned, his face stinging from the slap. Clarus lowered his hand, an annoyed exhale escaped his lips as he did so.

"I'm disappointed in you Gladiolus. I thought I raised you better than to give excuses." Clarus turned his back and began walking away. "Get out of my sight."

Fist clenched, he stomped off down the other hall with every intention to leave. When he turned the corner, he was unexpectedly met with a wide-eyed Noctis. Unknown to the Amicitia father and son, the prince remained within earshot, only out of sight, listening through the whole exchange. Too upset to speak, Gladio stormed past the younger boy, unaware of Noctis' loss for words.

* * *

Ever since the unexpected encounter between Ignis and Selene, Aracelis found a decorative box of freshly made cookies and pastries shoved into her arms every single morning. Her mother insisted she share a box of "diabetic goodness" with the quiet teen at school. Though, it was more likely her mother was enamored by the fact that a_ sweet boy_ like Ignis was friends with her.

Annoyance over her mother's doting nature aside, Selene's involvement turned out beneficial towards building a stronger relationship with Ignis. There wasn't much they could talk about during their lunch break since Aracelis lacked any other mutual interests with Ignis and her fellow classmates. Having her mother's cooking as a common point of conversation was immensely relieving.

If need be, she might even consider involving her mother further at a later date. Surely, the prince's advisor—hopefully to be true once again soon—would be lured in by the prospect of learning new dishes. After all, who was Ignis without his recipes? For him to remain uninvolved in cooking felt wrong. It wouldn't be right for him to be stripped of his iconic declarations after obtaining a new recipe. All in all, she was having an excellent day.

No one could fault her for nearly humming when she pulled her car into the garage on the Amicitia property parking in her usual spot. Once her car was locked up, Aracelis shouldered her messenger bag before making her way out of the garage. As she walked across the short stone path towards the side door into the Amicitia household, the sound of something being violently swung whistled through the air. A familiar grunting caught her attention before she changed direction and made her way towards the backyard down the stone path.

Once there, she caught sight of Gladio. Her childhood friend was shirtless, sweat glistening off his sculpted form, accentuated by the pervasive afternoon sun. Something was wrong. Confusion crossed her face as she checked her watch. It was far too early for Gladio to be home. It was unlike him to skip out on his duties, despite how much he despised Noctis.

At a closer look, she noticed his furrowed brows and gritted teeth. There was no rhyme or reason to the older teen's swordplay, as if mindlessly swinging at an invisible enemy. The lack of control was disconcerting. Her friend was _upset_, more so than usual. She walked closer until he took notice of her. At her presence he halted his aimless swinging.

"Hey," greeted Gladio flippantly, stabbing the training blade into the ground. Without a second look at his friend, he moved to grab the towel hanging off the patio chair.

"…You okay?" asked Aracelis, crossing the grassy lawn.

He fell silent, burying his face into the towel to wipe away his sweat. His lack of response was worrying. While he was busy with the towel, Aracelis moved to grab the bottle sitting on the patio table. She readied herself to hand it to him when he was done, but stopped when she noticed the swelling on his face.

"...What happened there?" She reached up to touch his swollen face, but the taller teen pulled away before her hand made contact.

"It's nothing," dismissed Gladio, narrowing his eyes at her. He plucked the bottle from her hand and popped the cap off. He lowered his head before he turned the bottle over allowing the cool water to wash over him.

"That doesn't look like nothing," commented Aracelis skeptically. "Did Noctis manage to land a blow on you or something?"

"As if," scoffed Gladio. He capped the bottle and swept his wet hair back. "I could stand still all day and he still wouldn't be able to hit me. This—" He paused to gesture to his face. "—is from dad."

"What!" shouted Aracelis in disbelief. "Why would he hit you?"

"...Can't say I didn't deserve it." He muttered, glancing away and not meeting her gaze. "It's my fault the brat failed his assessment eight times in a row. I should've been stricter. This is nothing compared to being taken off Crownsguard duty."

Aracelis' face began to pale as she digested his words. Eight times… the prince failed his assessments eight times in a row. From what she could remember through her random conversations with Gladio, these tests were given quarterly throughout the year. For him to have failed eight times meant that he has been doing poorly for the good part of two years.

In the six months' time that she's known him, Noctis could have only taken the assessment twice, which meant her initial assumption of the discord between the prince and his shield was incomplete and, dreadfully wrong. Gladio was not only upset at Noctis because of his own high expectations, but unknown to her, the prince wasn't even up to normal standards. With the older teen off Crownsguard, he was no longer the prince's shield. Not only did Aracelis' interference exacerbate the problem by encouraging him to skip out on his training sessions with Gladio, she inadvertently took away the prince's strongest fighter.

"No…" whispered Aracelis, shaking her head and refusing to accept this as fact.

"...Arie?" inquired Gladio curiously when he noticed the steely look crossing her face.

"No." Aracelis repeated once more, this time with determination. She turned her heel and made her way back to the garage.

Startled by the shorter girl's vehemence, the frustration the older teen felt previously was replaced with confusion. He didn't expect his childhood friend to react as strongly as she had. Even so, he made no move to stop her. Partially because he trusted her to not do anything rash while angry, but mostly because he really wasn't in the mood to chase after her with the day he's endured.

Unbeknownst to him, brash action was exactly what she intended to do. The moment she got into her car, Aracelis pulled up the chart she created to keep track of the prince's arcade hopping habits with her phone. She had hoped that getting the prince and his retinue back together again was all she needed to do to steer the world's narrative back into place. How wrong she was to humor such a naive notion.

Her presence alone had created a rippling effect. There was no way she could have foresaw this outcome. Nevertheless, she wasn't any less angry with herself for not proactively forcing these knuckleheads back to their rightful places. She was done being complacent. Subtly be damned, she will fix this.

From the Amicitia estates to the arcade, it took Aracelis no more than twenty minutes to drive there with her vicious road rage. She paid an exorbitant amount at the closest parking lot before storming into the arcade like an angry wraith. It didn't take long for her to find Noctis. The prince usually partook in the zombie shooter games on the chance that she might show up to join him.

When he spotted her, a faint half smile tugged at his lips as per usual. However, when he noticed the livid expression on her face, the smile quickly dropped. He took a step back when she invaded his personal space.

"I am this close to slapping you senseless," threatened Aracelis in a near growl. Each enunciated word was filled with more venom than the prince had ever heard come from her. "Talk to your father and get—Gladio's—job—back."

Noctis paused, frowning as he decided on how to respond to her demands. Contrary to his laid back demeanor, he wasn't one to shy away from confrontation.

"Why should I?" challenged the prince. "He's probably happy that he doesn't have to deal with me anyway…"

"Happy?" sneered Aracelis. "You think that lug of muscle is happy that he got fired from a job that he trained his whole life for? Gladio is an Amicitia. His family has served the Crown for generations without fail. For him to be _fired_ from his position, do you know what that means to him?"

"So what?" snapped Noctis in retort. "It's just an old nonsense tradition anyway. He could do something else now."

"Listen here you little shit!" growled Aracelis. "If not for you skipping out on your training with him and failing your assessment, none of this would have happened!"

Noctis' eyes harden at her words. He takes a willful step forward, reclaiming his invaded space. "You're no better than me. In fact, you _encouraged_ me to skip out on training!" With the gun from the zombie shooter game still in his hand, he thrust the controller forward to emphasize his point.

Aracelis opened her mouth to retort, only to snap it shut in frustration. The younger boy wasn't wrong. In fact, she was at fault for not only encouraging him, but also advising him on how to best avoid Gladio. She took in a hissing breath through her teeth and clenched her fists at her sides to keep from punching the royal brat in the face.

"This is _my_ fault, I will attest to that," admitted the girl forcefully. "However, unlike you I am trying to correct the wrongs I've done. I am taking responsibility for my actions. What about you, _prince_?"

"As if I haven't noticed my own failing!" He spat. "Do you think I enjoy the fact that every action I take has consequences?"

Aracelis became tight-lipped at his words. This was actually a sentiment she was beginning to understand perfectly. She and the prince shared more in common than she would care to admit at the moment.

Noctis continued, looking her straight in the eye. "I watched him get fired. I hate that others get punished over my mistakes. It's not all fun and games being a prince!"

"Yet, a prince is what you are," interjected Aracelis.

"I never asked for any of this!" exclaimed Noctis.

Aracelis frowned, this argument was quickly getting nowhere. She needed to take the reins and force it… No, force _everything_ back in the right direction.

Aloof demeanor aside, the prince was obviously guilt ridden by his failings. The older girl narrowed her eyes in thought. If he felt bad that his shield was punished on his behalf, the situation wasn't unsalvageable. She simply needed to convince the prince to resolve the matter, instead of opting for his usual habit of avoiding all of his problems.

"Whether you like it or not, all actions have consequences, prince or not." She began evenly, her voice sounded almost understanding. The wheels in her mind were in motion as she thought of what to say next. "But what do you think will happen now that Gladio is no longer your shield? Someone else will have to take his place. Chances are, _that_ someone will have to be within the Amicitia family. And guess what? That only leaves one other person. The only available option would be his ten-year-old sister, Iris."

Despite his previous agitation at their heated exchange, Nocits listened attentively to her words. At the mention of Iris' age, he looked away, folding his arms uncomfortably. It was one thing for him to be angry at his tormentor, but Iris was faultless. He's never even met her.

At his physical reaction, Aracelis could see she had the advantage. Who's to say that guilt couldn't be a good motivator?

"Being a king's shield is a life commitment." Aracelis expounded. "Iris will have to throw away the life she knows now. Instead of being a carefree little girl, she will now have to completely devote herself to making sure she could protect _you_. Not only will she have to endure the training Gladio received at _half her age_, but she will have even less time to do so. You said you never asked for any of this, but what about Gladio and Iris? Did they ask for this?"

The prince remained silent. His gaze averted and his arms tightly crossed, he showed every sign of being closed off. Aracelis cautiously hoped that every word was having the desired effect. "Can you honestly tell me that you are okay with this?"

When Noctis refused to speak once more, she was certain there was no point in going any further with the boy. His guilty reticence was clear. Aracelis stayed for a moment longer only to cement her disappointment in him before making her exit from the lively arcade. Gone from the sky was the orange hue of the afternoon sun. A soft hum came from the streetlights before they slowly flickered to life.

Aracelis rarely stayed out late enough to see the city transition to its nightlife and it wasn't likely she would do so tonight either, not after all that's happened. Once she got to the parking lot to retrieve her car, she opted to go straight home rather than to her grandfather's office. Against Selene's worried protests, the frustrated girl skipped out on dinner and locked herself in her room for the rest of the night. The transcribing busywork could wait until the following morning. Any time she lost could be made up before she goes to school.

Door locked, she tossed her messenger bag viciously into her chair. Her hands buried into her hair, ruffling it into a disarrayed mess. She paced in place, chest tight with the threat of a blood curdling scream. Not wanting her mother to hear, she pulled her hands away from her hair and reached for the giant teddy bear by her bay window.

All she could do to muffle her aggravated scream was to shove her face against the bear's plush body.

"You fucking dumbass!" She screamed until her voice became hoarse. Her fists smashed against the bear's cotton body until she fell into fitful exhausted slumber. Even with the worst of her screams muffled, it did little else to comfort her stress-filled mind.

What was supposed to be an excellent day became a heart stopping nightmare.


	8. UO08: Goody Two-Shoes

**Author's note: **Fair warning, this is a long chapter. xD

* * *

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Eight: Goody Two-Shoes **

_5:00 AM_

Gladio found himself staring blankly at his ceiling. Normally, he would be up and about preparing for Crownsguard duties. But today? He was no longer a part of Crownsguard. There was no point in him getting up early.

He considered staying in bed all day since he had nothing better to do. Except… he was wide awake and restless. So, without a second thought, he got up and started his morning workout. Pushups, pull ups, handstands and the like were all done in succession one after another. Apart from his steady breathing and grunting no other sound disturbed the morning silence in his room.

By the time he was done a sheen of sweat accumulated over his body. Dawn broke and the sound of birds chirping could be heard outside his window. He spared a glance out when passing by his chair to pick up a towel. From a young age, he and Aracelis both realized his room overlooked hers. Neither of them could see much into each other's room due to the angle of their windows, but they could glean enough to know whether the other was present.

Gladio paused when he noticed something different. The giant teddy bear that usually sat at the ledge was missing. As a child, Aracelis had taken to positioning the bear randomly in an attempt to convince him that it was alive. Probably to get back at him for winning the bear and gifting it to her, when she didn't want it in the first place.

The memory lingered in his thoughts briefly, but ultimately he dismissed it in favor of washing up after his workout.

_6:30 AM_

The prince's former shield sat alone at the kitchen counter. His legs wide, back slouched against the seat with one arm draped over the chair's back. His other rested on the counter nursing a cup of coffee as he watched the steam dance above the cup. His father Clarus had already left for the Citadel and it was still far too early for Iris to be awake. For Gladio to actually sit down and have a full breakfast of eggs, pancakes and sausages while leisurely drinking coffee was unheard of. His early Crownsguard duties often left him with only enough time to wolf down a large bowl of oatmeal, a couple of boiled eggs and a protein shake. His heavier meals were usually during lunch or dinner.

The heaviness of his breakfast felt unsettling in his stomach. Gladio kept his downcast eyes on the fading steam from his cup, ignoring the empty plate covered in a residue of thin film grease from the food. He tried to think of what to do next, now that he was done with breakfast.

Since he was no longer a Crownsguard, he didn't need to go through his morning patrol route around the Citadel. He could forget about attending the debriefing meetings with the rest of the Crownguards before lunch. He needn't prepare for the prince's daily training regime in the afternoon when the royal brat returned from school. He—Gladio shook his head. Those weren't things that he could do.

What did he normally do during his free time? The Amicitia heir frowned in thought. Apart from training, romance novels and monkeying around with Aracelis and his sister Iris, there was little else he could consider a hobby. There was no time for such a thing in his life when he was still in Crownsguard. Now that he was essentially fired, he suddenly found himself with more time than he's ever previously had. He supposed he'll have to find something else to do, now that he's no longer the prince's shield, but…

"...What do I do?" murmured Gladio, quiet and filled with uncertainty.

"Ah, young master Gladio, good morning." Jared greeted him pleasantly, walking in from the hall entrance.

"Morning," returned the dark-haired teen, sitting up in his seat. He glanced to his left when the Amicitia' chamberlain took a seat next to him at the counter.

"You look troubled," continued Jared gently. "If you need someone to talk to, feel free to speak with this doddering old man."

"...So you heard," muttered Gladio darkly. His eyes returned to the steam coming from his cup. He didn't want to look at Jared on the chance the older man's eyes reflected any semblance of pity.

"I understand nothing I say can make a difference, but fret not young master. This is merely a setback and nothing more." Jared reassured.

"A setback?" repeated Gladio in disbelief. "_This_ is far from a setback! I've been trained my whole life to be the brat's shield, but now? I'm not even part of Crownsguard and—!"

The aggravated teen forced himself silent. His nose flared, taking in a deep breath. His amber eyes lit with fury. The only thing he could do to keep himself from losing control and smashing his fist into the counter was to grasp tightly to his cooling cup of coffee. He won't lose control in front of Jared. He won't embarrass himself even further with what he perceived as his biggest personal failure.

Jared let out a soft sigh, hands folded neatly atop the counter. A wistful expression crossed his face as he glanced to the ceiling thoughtfully.

"The Shield of the Crown is a long standing tradition to the Amicitia line," noted the elderly Hester. "It is a hefty weight to bear. I have witnessed the transitioning of the position from your grandfather to your father Lord Clarus. Trust me when I say I would have been honored to see that role passed onto you."

His words didn't make Gladio feel any better. Not only did the young Amicitia fail to secure his position, but he's also failed to upkeep the line of succession for his family. If anything, Jared may have worsened his mood.

"However," interrupted the older man, breaking the former shield out of his slow descent into self-loathing thoughts. "If the fates decided another path for you, then maybe you're meant for something even greater."

"...Something greater?" The solemn teen frowned in thought.

What could be greater than to devote his life to the crown and prove his worth? All his life, he never considered anything beyond the role of the king's shield. He didn't dare humor the thought even if it came up. Now? He was no longer bound to the crown.

"Whatever it may be, I do believe that you will excel. Things may seem bleak now, but you are young. Think of this experience not as a failure but as an opportunity," advised the older man fondly.

"...When you put it that way," murmured Gladio absently. "I guess getting kicked off Crownsguard isn't literally the end of the world."

"The world is a big place young master," chuckled Jared, giving the young Amicitia a reassuring pat on his shoulder. "When one door closes, another will open. You just have to keep an open mind."

"Yeah…I can do that." Gladio agreed, slowly repressing the heaviness he felt earlier. He graced the elderly Hester with a grateful smile. "Thanks for the talk, Jared. It… sort of helped."

"Any time young master," returned the man before succinctly changing the topic. "Now, I do believe I was supposed to get some coffee before Aracelis finishes up and returns my office."

"...Arie's here?" noted Gladio with interest.

"The silly girl insisted she come in this morning to finish up the paperwork she left undone yesterday evening," sighed Jared with a fond shake of his head. "I told her it could wait until the weekend, but you know how she is."  
"An overachieving perfectionist?" offered Gladio.

"I prefer the term _responsible_," came Aracelis' clipped response from the kitchen door. "Grandfather, I've completed the paperwork."

"Excellent," complimented Jared. He planted his hands on the counter and eased himself up from his seat. "I was just about to pour some coffee, why don't you stay for a bit before heading off to school?"

"...Sure, I can use the caffeine," murmured the younger girl, stepping further into the kitchen.

At a quick glance, Gladio noticed a severe haggardness in his childhood friend. Aracelis, who was normally bright-eyed and alert, looked lackluster and exhausted. The raspy quality to her voice was different from her usual morning grogginess. Her shoulders hung low and her steps were light and slow. The brunette plopped down in the seat next to him and slouched over the counter, burying her face into her arms.

"You look like shit," commented Gladio.

Aracelis freed up one hand to punch him in the arm. It was weak and lacked the intent to hurt. Gladio scoffed at her half-hearted response, though he could barely tell the difference. Even so, he couldn't help but notice her exhaustion. The last time she got this bad was back when she was stressed out over Prompto.

Yesterday, she left in a hurry after he told her about the prince's assessment. Her strong reaction should have tipped him off that something was wrong, but he didn't think much of it at the time. He reached out and ruffled her hair into a mess.

"Quit it!" growled Aracelis. She swatted his hand away and lifted her head to glare at him.

"Make me," grinned the older teen cheekily.

Annoyed, the brunette moved to grab his wrists, but he easily maneuvered around her and continued to tousle her hair. Her growls turned into frustrated squeals. Gladio found himself laughing by the time she started kicking his shins to get an upper hand.

"Ah, it's nice to see the two of you get along," commented Jared light-heartedly.

"Grandfather, if you call this getting along, I believe you require glasses more so than I do," retorted Aracelis darkly.

"To be fair, Lord Clarus and Lady Rose were exactly the same way during their courtship," reasoned the old man.

"I fail to see Lord Clarus acting like this buffoon," snarled Aracelis, landing one last kick on the older teen before edging one seat over.

Gladio snickered and purposefully reached out to tease her more, but the younger girl hissed and swatted his hand away. Jared chuckled, pouring two cups of coffee through the exchange. In one cup, he added only a single spoon of sugar; in the other he added ample amounts of both sugar and milk.

"That's because young master Gladio takes after his mother." Jared chortled. When the elder Hester brought both cups over to the counter, Aracelis cautiously reached for the sugary concoction eyeing the older teen out of the corner of her eye. "Lady Rose was a rather spirited woman. It might actually do you some good to garner some of that spirit, Aracelis."

"What?" frowned the younger girl. "I'm plenty spirited, grandfather."

"Pft," scoffed Gladio. "Says the girl who always tries to get home before sundown."

"Are you trying to pick a fight?" challenged Aracelis.

"Now, now," eased Jared. "No need to get so riled up, but he does have a point."

"Grandfather!" protested Aracelis.

"Honestly, I don't understand why you insist on being so formal. Haven't I told you to call me grandpa?" sighed the elder Hester.

"That's because Arie's a poser!" Gladio let out a bellowing laugh when the brunette spluttered.

Strangely, he found an odd sense of accomplishment whenever he manages to make the normally straight-laced girl lose composure. Growing up, Aracelis was the type of kid who enjoyed acting mature far beyond her years. It annoyed him to see her to do so with such ease when she was younger than him. Now, that composure was preferable to the exhaustion that seems to so often plague her whenever she's stressed.

"Well, you should get going soon Aracelis," interrupted Jared in their bout of teasing the younger girl. "You have school today, right?"

"I'll head out once I'm done with my coffee," grumbled the girl. She cupped her hands over her mug hiding her face behind it in annoyance.

"I'll leave you two here then," chuckled Jared. He picked up his mug and moved to leave the kitchen. "And by the way Aracelis, you should forgo the paperwork today and take a little break. You look exhausted."

The younger Hester gave her grandfather a dismissive wave. The older man shook his head fondly at her response before leaving the room. Once gone, the kitchen fell silent. Gladio's coffee had gone cold while the smell of Aracelis' intolerably sweet hot beverage wafted in the air.

"So…" started Aracelis quietly after a moment. "You're right, the prince _is_ a brat."

"Uh..." Gladio glanced to her in surprise, not expecting her to badmouth the prince. "What brought this on?"

"...I found the prince yesterday and threatened to slap him silly," muttered the girl behind her cup. "Had I known he was doing so poorly I might have done it sooner."

"You threatened to slap him?" An amused and disbelieving snort escaped the Amicitia heir.

"Told him to get his ass in gear and go talk to his father to give you your job back… Not sure if any of it got through to him, but… I did what I could." Aracelis' eyes avoided his as she raised the mug to her lips and took a deep gulp.

Had she looked, she would have seen bewilderment clear on Gladio's face. He's gotten so accustomed to her siding with the prince at every turn, he didn't know how to take this change of heart. It wasn't until much later that he realized, this was the closest Aracelis had ever gotten to giving him a genuine apology. At the moment however, he felt a sudden warmth fill the cold disappointment in his chest. It was nice to have his friend side with him after all this time. Maybe her grandfather was right, losing his position in Crownsguard might not be the worst thing in the world.

"Don't worry about it," dismissed Gladio. "Being the brat's shield sucked anyway. Getting fired… I guess it's not that bad. At least I don't have to deal with his royal pain in the ass anymore."

He intended for his words to alleviate some of that exhaustion-inducing stress plaguing his friend. However, what it actually did was much worse. Aracelis nearly choked on her drink and fell into a coughing fit. She slammed the ceramic mug loudly onto the counter freeing up use of her hands to keep herself from spewing all over the place. It was pure luck the mug didn't shatter upon impact.

"W-WHAT?" coughed the younger girl in disbelief the moment she managed to swallow her coffee. "You can't mean that, can you? Being the shield—that's… that's what you wanted all your life, isn't it?"

"Why do you sound more upset than me?" frowned Gladio, finding it strange that she would get this upset over something that he was starting to get over.

"Because… the shield will always be an Amicitia. If you're not the prince's shield, then Iris is going to become the next shield," reasoned Aracelis, though she did not sound completely convinced, even to herself. "Are you sure you want her to put herself in danger for the prince's sake?"

A solemn look crossed his face. It was bad when he had to deal with the spoiled brat during his term as his shield. For his little sister to put _her_ life on the line for him would be unbearable. If the prince was more responsible, perhaps the change wouldn't be so bad, but… Gladio didn't want to think about it. It was obvious this was already stressing Aracelis. He won't let this bother him like it's bothering her.

"You're overthinking this," dismissed the older teen. "No one ever said that Iris is going to become the next shield."

"But you can't be certain of that," pressured Aracelis.

"Take the day off after school," insisted Gladio. He hopped off his chair while downing the rest of his cooled coffee.

"I don't need a day off," huffed the shorter girl.

"That's because you don't understand the concept of taking a day off," countered Gladio before gathering his cup and dirty plate. "I bet you'd hide in your room all day on the weekends if Selene would let you."

"Would not!" snapped Aracelis heatedly.

"Alright then, how about we make a bet?" grinned the Amicitia heir.

"...What kind of bet?" The cautious girl narrowed her eyes at his challenge.

"If you can stay out past midnight, you win. If you hide out in places like the library, a cafe or head home before that duration, then you lose." Gladio explained.

"But it's a school night!" protested Aracelis.

"Case and point Miss Goodie Two Shoes." The older teen chuckled. "If you win, you can continue doing _whatever_ _it is _that you are doing to yourself. But if I win, you have to take a break whenever I say!"

"That's hardly fair! You have nothing on the line," grounded the girl.

"Fine, if you win, I'll do whatever you want for a week. Deal?" amended Gladio, rolling his eyes.

"Hmm…" A thoughtful frown pinched her brows as she considered his counter. "Agreed. But don't think for a moment that I didn't take notice of you using this bet as a roundabout way of getting me to _take a break_ as you call it."

"But, you still agreed because you enjoy the challenge of proving me wrong," teased Gladio.

"Expect GPS location markers every half an hour after I get out of school." Aracelis pointedly drained her cup of coffee before stacking it on top of the dirty plate Gladio was still holding. "I _will _own you for a week, mark my words!"

Gladio fought back a hearty laugh as he watched the younger girl storm out of the kitchen, grim determination clear on her face. He has no doubt the bet was lost the moment he issued the challenge. However, it was a reasonable price to pay for his dear friend to regain some of the energy she lost through stress.

* * *

_9:00 AM _

An early September breeze fluttered through the open windows of a sleepy classroom. Prompto, along with many of his fellow classmates, found it difficult to stay awake amidst their instructor's droning lecture. Summer break may have ended a week ago, but a number of them were still having trouble adjusting to school life after a long leisure break.

Time and time again, the blond found himself glancing across the room to see if Noctis had also fallen prey to the drowsy atmosphere. He seemingly hasn't, as the prince was wide awake and staring aimlessly out the window. Any other time, this wouldn't be alarming, but Noctis had been acting strangely since yesterday.

Towards the majority of their peers, the raven-haired teen was often quiet and reserved. Apart from a _polite smile_, no one in school got to see what Prompto saw when they hung out. They weren't privy to his sly grins and the inescapable sudden outburst of laughter. It made the blond secretly proud that he was able to monopolize it for himself.

Except… that also meant not many people would be able to tell if there was something wrong with his friend. Prompto's worried blue eyes lingered on Noctis. He didn't know how to help. He wasn't strong like Gladio or self-assured like Aracelis. Heck, he can't even pull off being calm and composed like Ignis. He was just the shy fat kid that somehow became friends with the prince.

Well… not as fat now. He glanced down to the soft bulge at his stomach and poked it absently. Compared to the beginning of the year, he had slimmed down quite a bit thanks to Gladio's instruction and the countless training sessions where he tagged along with Noctis over the summer.

Lips pressed thin, Prompto grimaced at the thought. It seemed like he was always getting help from one person or another… Everyone's favorite _charity case._ Self-consciously, he adjusted the wristband hiding the barcode on his wrist. From a young age, his parents had told him to keep it out of sight. As a child he didn't think much of why he had this strange tattoo, but as he got older he realized the severity of its existence.

No parent would mark their child in such a manner, which led him to believe his parents must have adopted him when they saw it. With the amount of philanthropy they involve themselves in, he wouldn't be surprised. Not to say he wasn't thankful. It was one of the reasons he tried not to begrudge them for disappearing, weeks at a time. They were being kind and generous… much like everyone else who's helped him so far.

Prompto snuck another glance at Noctis. He wished he knew how to help.

_12:00 PM_

"Hey Noct, ready for lunch?" Prompto chirped with as much cheer as he could muster. Once their morning classes were over, he skipped over to the vacated seat in front of the prince and plopped down with his bagged lunch in hand.

"...Don't really feel like eating," murmured Noctis absently without looking at him. It didn't seem like he noticed the other teen at all.

"Oh…then… do you want to go for a walk? I mean, you don't have to, but…" Prompto bit his lower lip, struggling to find the right thing to say, only to find no words fit the situation.

While he fumbled through his words, he did manage to break Noctis out of his thoughts and gain his full attention. The raven-haired teen stared, puzzled as to why Prompto seemed so troubled. He said nothing as he waited patiently for his friend to finish. Unfortunately, the longer it took, the more uncomfortable Prompto became. Eventually, he gave up on trying to come up with the right words and blurted out what was on his mind.

"...Are you okay?" asked the blond worriedly. "It looks like something's bothering you. Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it? Is there anything I can do?"

Noctis blinked, not expecting the slew of concern that came tumbling out of the blond's mouth. It took a moment for him to process every question that was thrown at him. When he did, the prince couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face.

"Nah," dismissed Noctis lightheartedly. "I just failed a test, it's nothing to worry about."

"We had a test?" Prompto's voice rose in alarm. "When?"

"It's more of a _royal_ test," shrugged the prince nonchalantly. "It's no big deal. Not like it's my first-"

"There are tests for royalty?" gapped Prompto in amazement. "What do you get tested on? What happens when you fail? Wait… If you fail, does that mean you're no longer the prince? Do you get replaced? How does that even work? Where would they even get a new prince?"

A snort escapes Noctis at the excitable teen's escalating questions. The somber expression previously on his face faded completely, leaving a wry grin in its place. He found it difficult to remain morose when confronted with such genuine curiosity.

"It's a series of tests on how princely I can act. If I fail enough times, they'll demote me to commoner and enact a citywide talent search for the next prince of Lucis," fibbed the raven-haired teen dryly, putting every effort to keep a straight face as he spouted blatant fabrications. "It'll be done in a TV game show format and aired every Sunday, prime time. Everyone's eligible of course, so… maybe even _you _can be the next prince."

"Really? That's a thing?" Prompto responded, leaning in with such sincere amazement that it sent Noctis keeling over his desk in an attempt to stop himself from laughing.

"...No," answered Noctis, amusement clear in his voice and a smile wide on his face. His body shook in his efforts to contain it, but ultimately he failed, breaking out in hearty laughter.

"Wha... H-hey!" huffed Prompto, pouting at being teased.

"Man, how gullible are you?" laughed Noctis, wiping a stray tear from his eyes. "I mean, you should've caught on the moment I started listing broadcasting times. Seriously!"

"Well, _excuse me_ Prince Noctis for being a pleb and uncultured to your royal ways," scoffed Prompto, haughty and indignant as he crossed his arms.

Noctis sniggered, fighting off the last of his giggles. At the sight of the prince smiling again, any annoyance he may have felt at being teased melted away. He'd endure the embarrassment a thousand times over if it made his friend happy. Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived. Once the raven-haired teen managed to recompose himself, his face fell and his blue eyes grew dim once more.

"So…" Prompto tried again, when it looked like Noctis had fallen completely silent. "Joking aside, is failing bad? Do you get in trouble for not doing well?"

The conversation fell silent again, but this time Noctis was looking at him. There was an air of uncertainty surrounding the quiet boy. The way he looked at Prompto was unlike all the other times he's turned his attention to him. There was no teasing, no playfulness, just… uncertainty. The only way Prompto could describe this was as if his friend was _really_ looking at him for the first time, like he really mattered in some way.

"...I don't get in trouble whenever I fail… not really, the most I've ever gotten was a scolding." Noctis murmured when he finally resolved whatever debates he may have had in his head while staring at Prompto. "But… that just means others get punished because of my failures."

"Oh…" whispered Prompto, quiet and understanding.

It finally made sense to him as to why Noctis had been acting so strange for the last two days. His friend was upset and guilt-ridden because someone was being punished on his behalf. Prompto would feel the same way too if he did something wrong and he received nothing more than a chastise while someone else got the brunt of the punishment.

"Um… I'm not sure if this helps, but when I screw up… I kinda just own up to it, you know? Like… 'My bad. I screwed up, it's my fault.' I mean, not to say that you're not honest or whatever, just… that bad feeling kinda weighs on you after a while and owning up and trying to fix it can help… sometimes? _Maybe_? I'm not even sure what I'm talking about anymore." Prompto laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

His offered advice brought upon a pensive look on the prince's face. Noctis curled the back of his knuckles against his lips thoughtfully. At some point he had accepted his failed assessments as part of the norm. There was never a reason for him to improve when the worst he's ever gotten was a mere scolding. He's learned to tune out the disappointment and pretty much anything that disinterested him.

"...It's worth a try," murmured Noctis. A smile quirked up at the corner of his lips as he turned to Prompto. "Thanks, I didn't know I needed that."

He appreciated the blond's frantic concern. Despite not knowing what had happened or if he could even help, Prompto's offer was touching. Vice versa, the prince's words brought upon a warm flutter that tugged at the freckled teen's chest. He was useful! The blond had no clue what he said to help, but he felt accomplished. He pushed down the bubbling desire to laugh as the corners of his eyes crinkled and a bright toothy grin enveloped his face.

"Always here to help, buddy!" chirped Prompto happily.

_4:00 PM_

With Noctis in better spirits, Prompto felt less insignificant when his invitation to hang out after school was declined the second day in a row. Since his afternoon was free, he decided to wander about the city, taking photographs. It has been too long since he indulged his favorite hobby. Nowadays, most of the photos in his camera were of him and Noctis fooling around during afternoon breaks or at the arcades.

"Princes will be princes," murmured Prompto as he flipped through the snapshots in his camera. He shook his head fondly when he spotted a photo of Noctis cringing at a plush smiley faced carrot in his arms.

Prince… The smile dropped from his face as a sense of worthlessness slowly crept up on him. In the grand scheme of things, who was he to the prince? A friend? For now, but in a year? In five years? What then? Sure, they're friends now, but eventually, their paths will separate. Noctis had his princely duties and responsibilities and he… He had no clue what he was going to do with his life after high school. Theoretically, he could try to apply to the same university as Noctis, if the prince intended to further his education before taking on his duties as the Crown Prince. After that? He had no idea.

He knows it's ridiculous to think so far into the future when they've barely even entered their second year in high school, but—

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

Prompto yelped, clenching a hand to his chest in terror as he turned his attention behind him. In a red vehicle sat a dark-haired young woman with her hand firmly planted on the horn. A thick white stripe accented down the roof of the convertible with matching stripes decorating the side. It felt very much like a race car. A mischievous grin dominated her face when she caught his attention and she stuck her head out the window.

"YO BLONDIE!" shouted the young woman gleefully. "Looks like I almost ran you over again! Where you going? I'll give you a ride."

His blue eyes widened in terror and his fair complexion paled even further at the sight of the driver. It was her… It was really her! The pretty girl who ran him over with her car and sent him to the hospital. She was also the same person who took him there. Despite the many months separating him from the accident, that memory still haunts him.

After running him over, she hauled him into her car, joking and laughing at his good fortune of not being killed on impact. Then she floored the accelerator, racing her car to the hospital. She even chatted up a storm on the way there, occasionally pulling her attention away from the traffic to speak to him. It was all very exciting—but not in a fun way. The blond was certain that he watched his pitiful life flash before his eyes enough times to call them reruns.

"J-just heading ho—GOING FOR A JOG!" Prompto changed his answer immediately, too scared of the girl to actually tell her the truth. "You know me, always jogging… Yep, that's me—the jogger."

"You're going to jog...in your school uniform?" deadpanned the older teen, obviously calling out his poorly thought out lie.

"Erm, yes?" insisted Prompto. He internally begged to the gods, the heavens and whatever else that was listening to his prayers to have her accept the lie. He promises to be a better person. He'll take up charity work! He'll offer up his left kidney or-

"...More power to you I guess." She gave a dismissive nonchalant shrug. The glossy colored lips of the flashy girl grinned brightly and her eyes relit with mischief and glee. "Still! I never thought I'd_ run into_ you again. HA! Get it? Run in? Because I _ran_ you over?"

"Eh-heh… I get it… funny..." replied Prompto nervously, unable to find relief despite how willingly she accepted and dismissed his lie. She honestly didn't seem to care whether or not he was lying.

Heck, it didn't seem like she cared about much at all. Whereas Aracelis was terrifying on how controlling she could get when worried, this girl was petrifying with how little she seemed to care. He may not have known her for more than the duration they shared in her car, but there was something _sincerely insincere_ about her.

What's worse, the playful lilt to her voice didn't help ease the unsettling feeling beginning to creep beneath Prompto's skin. Something about the way she looked at him made him feel like less of a person. As if he was nothing more than another toy, waiting to be broken.

"Well, it was nice chatting with you, but I gotta get going! Still have like… a bunch of...laps to do! So um—"

_Bzzz...bzzz..._

"Hold that thought," interrupted his assailant, pulling out her phone and flicking the screen to life. Her eyes darted across the screen briefly before her eyes widened and a delighted giggle escaped her lips. "Well, isn't this interesting. Hey blondie, how do you feel about going to a car race?"

"NO!" Prompto shouted before quickly adding. "I mean it's not really my thing."

"You sure?" She cocked her head, waiting for a change of heart. Her thumbs were still tapping away in a response text.

"YEP!" Prompto waved his hand. "You sound like you enjoy that! So… have fun! I'm… I'm gonna just go! See you!"

Without waiting for a response, the blond hightailed away from the red car. Every part of his instincts screamed to get free as quickly as possible… and he wasn't wrong.

* * *

_5:30 PM_

The library was silent and void of other students. The majority of Valetis was long gone, doing their best to enjoy the last of the dwindling summer sun before autumn completely sets in. Ignis should have done the same as his peers, but Aracelis had dropped yet another absurd conspiracy topic on him during their lunch together. While he did find the topics engaging, his patience was waning. Letting out a deep sigh, he leaned back pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

_Bzzz… bzzz…_

_"Heeeey Igster! xDDDD i'm surprised that you actually texted me! i thought you were dead or something! anyway i'll be there soon to pick you up! 333 "- Claire Auburn_

Ignis eyed the text for a moment longer before locking his phone with a click of a button. He's long grown accustomed to her overly affectionate messages. It was how Claire Auburn, daughter of an old line of barony, typically spoke to people. Much like him who will inherit the title of Count when his uncle passes, she was in line to inherit the title of Baroness at her father's passing. The girl was atrociously informal and cared little for upholding other people's personal boundaries. Quietly, he set the phone softly on the desk before glancing at his notepad and the mess of opened books strewn across three out of the six desks meant for group studies.

Unwillingly, he thought back to the day he met Claire. She had stolen her father's car for a joyride when she found him sitting at the edge of a bridge, feet dangling precariously over the railings. In hindsight, he could've easily fallen and died, but he hadn't thought much of it. To someone else, it may appear as though he was suicidal, but in actuality? He wanted to see if fear and adrenaline could pierce through the veiling of numbness in his mind.

He was… bored. Bored of the self-imposed responsibilities he's given to himself.

Since moving in with his uncle, he felt as though he was a stranger intruding in the man's life. Not that Uncle Pyralis ever said anything of the sort. The man practically gave him free reign to do whatever he pleased since they rarely spend more than ten minutes in the same room… Except, it didn't feel right for him to abuse that freedom. His uncle had taken him in when he could've easily dropped him off at an institution. It was a kindness he felt that he could never fully repay. It was why he maintained his grades and his ranking as the top student in Valetis. Why he's taken to cooking and the various chores in the house. He wanted to repay his uncle in any way that he could.

He couldn't feel anything when Claire approached him that day, with her unsettling blasé attitude. The way she asked him if he was trying to kill himself was akin to someone asking about the weather. He could no longer remember the response he gave her, but he recalls her laughing then telling him that falling off a bridge was lame and that there were better and more fun ways to get a thrill.

_Bzzz… bzzz…_

Blinking away the exhaustion, Ignis reached for his phone, stopping it from clattering and vibrating on the desk. A quick click revealed another text.

_"i'm outside! get your pretty ass over here so we can get the party started! ;)" -Claire Auburn_

Ignis raised an eyebrow. The timestamp between this text and the last one was absurdly close. He hoped that the other teen was already somewhere nearby when he texted her, but chances were she had broken several traffic violations to get to Valetis. Nevertheless, he spared a glance at the messy desk in front of him for a second longer before he tidied everything into a neat pile and returned it to a nearby cart of perused books. His research was safely packed away in his briefcase bag and tucked under his arm as he made his way out of Valetis.

As he crossed the expansive courtyard, he couldn't help but take in the familiar dullness of his surroundings.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

"YO IGGY!" shouted a dark haired teen out of her striped convertible. She flailed an arm excitedly out the window to catch his attention.

"...Hello Claire." Ignis greeted her evenly as he approached her car. The girl was practically bouncing with excitement in her seat.

"Hello?" scoffed the girl. "You go MIA for months and that's all you're gonna give me?"

"Yes," replied Ignis bluntly.

"Why do you insist on being as ice cold as Shiva?" pouted the girl exaggeratedly.

"Because nothing I say actually offends you," dismissed the stoic teen.

"Eh… fair enough." Claire cackled. She thumbed towards the back of her car with a grin and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I got your clothes in the trunk. You can change in the backseat if you want."

_10:00 PM_

_Thump-thump-click_

Ignis clutched the gear lever loosely in his hand as he shifted it with practiced ease. Light from the occasional street lamp glinted off his glasses as he did his best to focus on the dimly lit road ahead. His foot held firm on the accelerator. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the needle on the speed gauge slowly approaching the red zone. His grip loosened on the steering wheel, allowing it to glide against his hands before he hastily turned the vehicle. The engine purred and the car screeched loudly as it drifted narrowly through a sharp turn.

Heart racing, blood pumping, the quiet teen righted the car, speeding after the vehicle in front of him. He was slightly out of practice, but this wasn't his first race. He eyed the opposite lane for oncoming traffic before deciding to switch over to pull ahead against his opponent. His grip tightened on the wheel, riding out the vibrations from the engine as he cut back in front of his opponent.

For a moment it seemed like the opposing car was going to rear-end him, but it swerved at the last second to avoid collision. Ignis glanced through his rearview mirror in worry, wondering if his reckless move caused his opponent to crash into the guardrail. He was half tempted to stop and turn around to check, but then he spotted the other car catching up. A relieved smile touched his lips before he decided it was high time for him to end the race. With victory in mind, he shifted gears once more and floored the accelerator.

As he neared the end, he could see the horde of rowdy spectators. The roughneck crowd was torn between cheering and groaning in dismay at the sight of his borrowed car. He made a flashy show of sending the car into a full donut before sliding neatly across the finish line.

"And the winner is—IGGY!" The ref's megaphone was loud enough for him to hear despite having none of the windows open.

Ignis shifted gears to park then pulled up the break before climbing out of the car. At his appearance, the half that was excited continued to cheer wildly and swarm to be the first to congratulate his victory. A cloud of dismay covered those who wished for his loss and some even went grudgingly to slap money into the hands of those they bet against.

"Great race Iggy!"

"Thought we'd never get to see you around these parts anymore!"

"I knew you would win!"

Tight pants, leather jacket and gelled up hair, Ignis smiled openly at their praise as he weaved through the crowd. Over time, his Iggy persona was unwittingly created among the street racers. In the car, he felt like he was on top of the world and could face anything that came his way. Outside of the car, being cheered by racing enthusiasts, he still fell back to feeling like a stranger in his skin. They had no idea of the existence of Ignis, the rule abiding top student of Valetis. The quiet teen that never felt comfortable around people. The young man that's forever stuck going through the same routine day in and day out to the point of numbness. Whereas Ignis would always play it safe and follow the rules, Iggy would break it with unbridled recklessness. It was exhilarating, cathartic and… absolutely embarrassing.

No one knew of his indulgence in this bout of delinquency. No one, that is—apart from Claire, who is highly amused by what she deems an act of two-faced hypocrisy. If he could, he intended to take this secret to his grave.

Speaking of which, something wasn't right. The abrasive girl was strangely absent, when she was normally the first to congratulate his victories. Often to claim credit for dragging him into the world of street racing. She regularly stole her father's car for joyrides and was more than happy to shove him in the driver's seat and force him into his first street race. Despite the fact that over a year ago, Ignis wasn't even eligible for a learner's permit.

Ignis glanced through the crowd in search of conflict. While he wasn't worried that she might have gotten into trouble, he was definitely concerned that she might be causing it. At a precursory glance, it didn't take him long to find the girl aggressively pinning some poor unfortunate soul against a black car. Not an uncommon sight; however, he quickly found the car to be awfully familiar and the victim in question even more so.

Fully dressed in the Valetis girls' uniform and looking utterly out of place in Claire's invasive hold was none other than Aracelis.

The sight of the brunette sent a shiver down his spine, making him want to run before she could see him. He had no doubt that if she were to discover this secret life of his, the rule-abiding girl would have more than a few choice words with him. Of the people that could have found out, she was definitely not one that he wanted to deal with. Still, he could not just leave her to the Auburn heir's less than tender care.

The fact that she came to such an event still dressed in her school uniform proved that she was woefully unprepared to deal with the likes of Claire. Aracelis may seem calm and composed to anyone watching from afar, but he liked to think he's spent enough time around her to know better. It grew clear to him that behind her usual act of cool bravado was a hidden discomfort and uncertainty.

With how her eyes darted between the rowdy girl holding her and their immediate surroundings, he was certain Aracelis was searching for a way to get out of her predicament. She's not likely to, not here in Claire's playground. Ignis breathed out through his nose and with resignation, he stood taller and made his way toward them.

"Oh come on, just one little ride," drawled Claire with faux playfulness. Her body was practically draped over the other girl as she leaned into her. "Otherwise, why would you even come to a place like this, Miss Goodie Two Shoes?"

"...She's my ride home," interrupted Ignis.

"So soon?" said Claire in mock disbelief.

"If I stay, you're just going to drag me to a party and not let me go home until dawn," retorted Ignis dryly. "Or am I wrong?"

"...Ugh, why are you so responsible?" scoffed Claire. "It's absolutely disgusting. Just get out of here."

Ignis didn't bother to respond and sidestepped around her. A bewildered Aracelis stared back at him, wide-eyed and unmoving from where Claire had previously pinned her. In her attempt to back away from Claire's invasive behavior, Aracelis was forced to lean her back flushed against the hood. Her hands and fingers were spread wide against the car to maintain her balance. Her slight panting and flustered expression forced a rising blush to his face.

To her, his presence was likely an unexpected surprise, if not his appearance. Not wanting to waste any more time, he moved forward to grab hold of her by the shoulders and usher her into the passenger seat of her car. It didn't take long for him to amble over to the driver's seat and make haste away from the race area.

As he drove, the revelry faded into the distance. A quiet lull filled the car with only the hum of the engine breaking the silence. The race site was always in a secluded area with little traffic. Apart from their car, there was little else on the road. He thought he had gotten used to spending time alone with Aracelis during their lunch breaks at school, but he supposed he had spent that time with her as Ignis.

He wary a glance to the brunette. The girl had her hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes pensive and her expression confused. She seemed almost as lost as he felt. For fifteen minutes, the silence dragged on. Ignis' trepidation grew with each passing second. Eventually, he gave up waiting for her to speak first and broke the silence.

"...Out with it, I know you have something to say," sighed the taller teen. He saw no point in trying to present himself as quiet and reserved.

"So… you street race," started Aracelis slowly.

"Yes," replied Ignis stiffly.

"As Iggy…" continued the girl, sounding as though she didn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth.

"...Correct," murmured Ignis, steeling himself for the onslaught of disappointment to come.

Be it in the form of school regulations, his overall irresponsibility or whatever multitude of reasons she could come up with. He was certain she was not lacking in the creativity department. Little did he know, while he was steeling himself for disappointment, Aracelis was struggling to keep her composure. The girl's body was turned away, hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide the fact that she was restraining laughter.

When a quiet snort escaped her, Ignis' resolve melted away, replaced by confusion and dread. His eyes narrowed and his brows pinched in bewilderment. He glanced to her out of the corner of his eye. Within seconds, she keeled over burying her face in her hands as she fell into a giggling fit.

"Don't…" Trying his best to keep his eyes on the road, Ignis did his best to maintain his composure. "It—This isn't funny!"

"Iggy," she snorted, fighting desperately against the rising giggle. His protest went either unheard or ignored. "You have an alter-ego named Iggy…oh… my… god... this is amazing!"

"...You're not bothered by…" Ignis paused, unable to keep himself from drawing his attention away from the road before them to look to the girl in confusion.

"Why would I?" grinned Aracelis. "You're still Ignis even if you're secretly some sort of a racing god."

The soft, genuine smile on her face… wasn't what he expected.

"I'm glad that you see it that way." Ignis replied, a shy smile on his lips. "Though, I doubt others would think the same."

"Well, I'll have to make sure I keep Iggy a secret then," replied Aracelis dryly. "I would hate to deprive the world of its esteemed race god."

A soft chuckle escaped Ignis' lips. Despite having only seen him act as Ignis, the girl didn't appear to value one facade of him over the other. Unlike Claire who called him a faker and demanded him to let Iggy out more often, Aracelis took it in stride that he was both… No one's ever accepted both sides of him before.

However, before he could contemplate the thought further, Aracelis suddenly fell silent. Her brows furrowed and she pressed her knuckles against her lips. Ignis had no clue what caused the sudden change, but he kept a careful hold of what he allows to express on his face. Every time he glanced over to her, he could see her eyes darting rapidly back and forth as if she was mentally reviewing notes.

Her face was surprisingly expressive for someone who was silent. The fingers curled beneath her lips twitched, pressing against her palm in a manner that's reminiscent of someone counting off reasons to prove a point. Concern grew on her face with each finger she pressed down against her palm. Her knuckles still nursing against her lips, she spoke her mind.

"Racing's… kind of dangerous. One wrong move and you could end up crippled for life or worse… dead." She paused, glancing to him. "Not to say it's not cool and all, but… it'd be a waste for you to lose your life like this. You're capable of so much more than just street racing," reasoned the girl. "Heck, I bet you could probably whip the prince into a decent king, even with all his hang-ups."

Ignis found an unexpected flutter in his chest followed by a burning heat on his face. Embarrassed, he adjusted his glasses as a guise to hide his face behind his hand. He can't remember the last time someone showed him actual concern. Whereas Claire would egg him on into dangerous races, Aracelis was worried for him.

"Erm…" Ignis cleared his throat in an attempt to change the topic. Hoping the distraction would be enough to will away his flaming cheeks. "If you don't mind my asking, Aracelis, why were you at the race site? I'd say it doesn't seem like something you'd be interested in, but that would be hypocritical of me."

"Gladio implied that I was a homebody that can't stay out late," replied Aracelis. "So we made a bet. If I could stay out past midnight, he becomes my slave for a week. Part of the challenge was that I can't stay in a library or cafe in that duration. Hence, why I was there. I needed to send him my GPS marker as proof."

"I see…" murmured Ignis thoughtfully. "What happens if you lose?"

"He gets to decide when I need to take a break," scoffs Aracelis. "As if he knows anything about relaxing."

"...If you don't mind me asking, how _do_ you relax?" asked Ignis curiously.

Aracelis fell quiet again, this time, looking out the window so she wouldn't meet his gaze.

"...Cigs." Aracelis mumbles under her breath.

"Cigs?" Ignis repeated, surprised that she actually answered, but also confused by the short phrase.

"Cigarettes," clarified the girl more firmly. She straightened her posture and glanced back to him coolly. "Problem?"

So that's why she wasn't too opposed to him racing. Insomnian law states that no one under the age of 18 was allowed to purchase cigarettes. With how rule abiding she was, Aracelis probably thought underage smoking was equally as delinquent as street racing. Though, he doubts there were many people who would go street racing before they even get a license.

At her posturing, Ignis found himself turning away to hide his amusement. It was actually kind of cute.

"Not at all." Ignis replied, his voice tinged with humor. "I'm just surprised that you managed to keep this from your mother."

"You're underestimating my mother," muttered Aracelis darkly. "I went out of my way to air out my clothes and brushing my teeth to get rid of the smell and she still somehow figured it out. What's worse, instead of screaming at me, she passive aggressively leaves me all these pamphlets stating the dangers of smoking—which I'm sure she made herself. Taped pictures of black lungs and people with holes in their throats to my door and a box of 12-step nicotine patches for quitting."

"Umm…" Ignis started, unsure how to continue, since he could tell this was a sensitive topic.

"I know she cares," quipped Aracelis when she noticed he was awkwardly silent. "She wouldn't do all that if she didn't. I just…damn it."

Aracelis let out an irritated hiss as she pressed her entire palm over her face. She went from quiet contemplation to angry in a heartbeat.

"Something wrong?" asked Ignis, confused by the sudden mood change.

"I was going to say I needed a break, but then I realized that means Gladio was right." Aracelis grumbled, pulling her hand over her mouth in frustration. "Do me a favor and don't tell him I said that… actually, don't tell him anything that I told you here. He's _definitely_ not going to get off my case if he knows I smoke."

With how they bickered, it was obvious the two of them were close, but he was starting to see a more familial relationship between them. However, as a single child, he can't confidently say if it's akin to having a sibling. Were siblings usually secretive with one another?

"So I'm to be your accomplice?" Ignis inquired dryly.

"I'm trusting you to not betray me," warned Aracelis, looking more exhausted than threatening.

"Very well then," grinned Ignis. "As your accomplice, shall I humbly offer coffee and sanctuary at my apartment until the allotted time for your bet with Gladio comes to an end?"

"That sounds good right about now," sighed Aracelis in relief. "I'm going to make Gladio _pay_ for banning cafes in this bet."

Ignis fought back another smile as he drove the car towards his apartment. With the tension gone, the car fell into a comfortable silence. The only sounds in the car was the hum of the engine and the occasional ticking of the turn signal. Aracelis sunk into her seat, resting her head against the window. Every now and again out of the corner of his eye, the quiet teen could see her fighting back a yawn. The brunette must be exhausted from running around for the bet. By the time they made it back to his apartment, Aracelis looked as though she could fall asleep on her feet.

"...Are you going to be okay to drive home later?" asked Ignis as they stepped into the foyer of his shared apartment.

"Just get me some coffee and I'll be fine. It's almost midnight anyway," mumbled the girl. Her voice drowsy and her eyes threatening to drift close.

"Why don't you take a seat? I'll get a pot brewing," offered Ignis, waving vaguely towards the couch in the living area before turning towards the open kitchen.

"Sounds great," agreed Aracelis readily, making her way to the couch. He could hear her plopping down on the couch while he made his way towards the kitchen.

In a practiced motion, he went to set the kettle in the sink to fill under the tap before moving about the dark-wooded kitchen gathering what he needed for brewing. In moments, sounds of a pulsing coffee grinder, the soft clinking of a metal spoon against the glass coffee press and the clattering of cups and saucers filled the room. By the time he swung back to the sink, the kettle was filled and he turned off the tap before moving the kettle to the stove. The igniter clicked three times before the flame lit and the water was on its way to getting boiled.

As he waited for the water to heat up, Ignis found himself glancing to Aracelis who was flicking through her phone. This was his first time bringing someone to the apartment. While the surrounding circumstances were a little strange, it wasn't uncomfortable. They've shared coffee together many times before at school. The only difference now was just the location.

_Clatter…_

"...Aracelis?" Ignis glanced away from the stove at the sound, but paused when he spotted the girl slumped, her phone laid abandoned on the ground a foot away from the couch.

Confused and alarmed, he circled around the counter, only to find the girl leaning against the couch, sound asleep. All that running around must've taken a toll on the girl. She likely fell asleep due to exhaustion. Relieved it was nothing serious, he shook his head and knelt down to pick up her phone. When he rested his hand on the couch to push himself up, he found his gaze drifting back to Aracelis.

Loose bangs draped over her face and her breathing grew soft. She had a single hand laid open where her phone must've been a moment ago. The girl was so paranoid, he didn't see her as the sort to fall asleep anywhere, even if she was exhausted. For her to be able to do it so easily now must mean that she trusted him a great deal. The bangs covering her face reminded him how much she hated it whenever it fell in line with her vision. The brunette would always tuck it behind her ear in annoyance while she was in class.

Without even thinking, he brushed the loose strands back.

A sudden fondness bubbled at his chest and Ignis hastily pulled away. His face flushed red with embarrassment, but his eyes were unable to pull away from the sleeping girl.

_Ring… Ring…_

At the ringing and vibrating phone in his hand, Ignis gladly pulled away from his flustering thoughts and glanced to the screen. A snapshot of a smiling Selene appeared, tagged with the name Mother. The woman must be wondering where her daughter was at this hour. Ignis fought back a grimace, glancing to the still sleeping Aracelis. He should probably wake her up, but knowing her, she might actually try to drive while half asleep. He didn't have long to decide since the phone will likely go to voicemail if he continued to remain inactive. Taking a deep breath, he swiped his thumb over the screen to answer.

"...Hello Mrs. Hester," greeted Ignis politely, trying his best to formulate a good excuse as to why he had possession of Aracelis' phone. "I'm not sure if you remember me, but this is Ignis. I'm Aracelis' classmate. We met some time ago?"

"_Ignis?_" repeated Selene in bewilderment for a second before her bubbly voice perked up. "_Oh! You're that sweet boy that helped me with my groceries! How are you, dear?" _

"Erm… I'm fine, thanks for asking." Ignis replied, not expecting the woman start up common pleasantries when there were more important matters at hand.

_"Lovely! That's wonderful to hear!" _chirped Selene. _"You and Aracelis must be having a __**study session**__. That girl never tells me anything nowadays. I was starting to worry when she hasn't come home yet, but if she's with you then I'm relieved! You're such a nice, responsible young man." _

"You flatter me." Despite his polite words, he grew uncomfortable under her compliments.

_"Oh don't be so modest!"_ gushed the Hester matriarch. _"Can you ask Aracelis when she'll be coming home?"_

"About that…" Ignis tried his best not to grow flustered or clear his throat unnecessarily. "Aracelis fell asleep just a moment ago. I can wake her, but I'm a bit concerned about her driving home while half awake."

"_Hmm… is that so?" _hummed Selene thoughtfully.

"Mrs. Hester, I can assure you nothing happened between—" Ignis quickly tried to extrapolate on the fact that neither of them were doing anything inappropriate, but he never finished his defense.

"_Oh, don't worry about that dear, I was just teasing,"_ giggled Selene. "_But you are right and I rather not have Arie drive if she's tired. Would your parents mind if you hosted Arie for the night? Will that be an issue?" _

"...No problem at all," replied Ignis. Technically, his uncle Pyralis was away on a business trip and won't be due back until the next day, but she didn't need to know that.  
"_Wonderful!" _cheered Selene. "_Tell her to call me in the morning."_

"Certainly, Mrs. Hester." He replied dutifully.

"_I thought I told you to call me Selene_. _Honestly, the two of you are so ridiculously formal,_" huffed the woman. "_Anyway, do try to come visit sometime. Arie rarely ever brings home a friend._"

"...I'll try to keep that in mind," murmured Ignis awkwardly, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. "Good night erm… Selene."

"_Good night to you too dear!" _chirped the woman.

Once the call ended, a sigh of relief escaped Ignis. Somehow, talking to the Hester matriarch was far more nerve-wracking than any close calls he's made during a race.

_Fwee!_

At the sound of the boiling kettle, Ignis welcomed the distraction and set the phone down. There was no point in making coffee, now that Aracelis was asleep, but he still wanted the reassuring warmth of the familiar beverage. He took quick steps to the kitchen to turn off the stove before the whistling kettle could wake his sleeping guest.

However, before he could get to brewing coffee, the familiar sound of a key jiggling at the foyer caught his attention. Ignis' face paled when the door opened. His uncle was home. He shouldn't be home. He never comes home early!

The door closes, followed by a pregnant pause. His uncle must've seen Aracelis' shoes at the foyer. What may have been seconds felt like an eternity to Ignis as he waited for his uncle to leave the foyer and step into the living room. There was no way he could hide Aracelis, even if she was awake. Even so, explaining her presence in the apartment felt less stressful than why he was still dressed as Iggy.

Finally, his travel weary uncle slipped into view, luggage in tow. "...I see you have a guest," remarked his uncle Pyralis as he stepped further into the living area, immediately making note of Aracelis asleep on his couch.

"She's a classmate," explained Ignis hastily. "We had a project that… ran a bit long. She fell asleep a while ago and… I didn't want to wake her."

"Okay, just do whatever you need to do… Does her family know that she's here?" his uncle asked. He looked at neither Ignis nor Aracelis as he spoke. His attention remained while hauling his luggage.

"Yes, her mother called a moment ago and I told her we could host her for the night," replied the younger Scientia. "Uncle, I know I should have asked before bringing guests over but—"

Ignis found himself interrupted by a long involuntary yawn from Pyralis.

"Don't stay up too late," he dismissed, not bothering to give Ignis a second look as he made his way down the hall and towards his room. Ignis fell silent, watching the man's retreating back.

Despite the odd circumstances, he and his uncle still shared nearly the same old conversation. The man hadn't even reacted to him in his unusual attire. The nagging sense of emptiness tugged at his chest. His gaze drifted to Aracelis' sleeping figure on the couch, suddenly jealous that the girl could slumber so care freely. She never had to doubt whether or not her mother Selene cared. With an exasperated sigh and a shake of his head, Ignis went off to the linen closet to get a spare blanket for her.

* * *

_12:00 AM_

Tall dark shadows from the floor to ceiling windows decorated the quiet halls on the upper levels of the Citadel. Apart from the occasional Crownsguard on patrol, there weren't many other souls out and about at this hour. King Regis sat alone in his dimly lit study, mulling over the various files scattered on his desk.

Between his fingers he held a Kingsglaive acquisition request form for Gladiolus Amicitia.

A solemn look crossed the monarch's face. He had hoped Gladiolus would one day stand by Noctis' side, much like how his friend and shield, Clarus Amicitia had stood by him. As was congruent to their fathers before them, and so on. Between the perpetuated war with Niflheim and the escalating civil unrest throughout Lucis, Regis feared that he may have prolonged this more personal matter for far too long. Both fathers wrongly concluded that their sons could eventually work out their differences. As was opined by several of his closest friends and advisors, it would simply require some more time, or greater effort, or _harsher punitive _action. The affair began circulating his court and it became that almost every official in the Citadel had some form of advice or opinion on the matter; from minor nobility like Lord Flavius to the Baron Sir Auburn.

Unfortunately, his extended leniency with his son only worsened the matter and it grew more dire with each passing failure. The young prince had grown more dismissive and hopeless with each assessment. In turn, his son's failures only served to worsen the discord with the younger Amicitia shield. Finally, everyone agreed that if the prince shows no visible improvement and fails once more, immediate action must be taken. With the future of Lucis in mind, Regis had no choice but to make the difficult decision.

Looking in on his father, Noctis stood outside by the entrance concealed by the darkness of the hallway. The large door into his father's study was slightly ajar. The slither of light escaping the other room danced across his face as he adjusted his posturing for a better look.

Regis breathed out deeply through his nose as he began contemplating the sensitive young prince and his future. His son had a bit of a _finicky_ nature, from his picky eating to his choice of informal schooling, perhaps even to his retinue…He feared that he might have to consider other potential families that could procure a suitable shield replacement for his son, and breach their longstanding tradition with the Amicitias.

Noctis hovered his hand reluctantly over the ornate surface of the door, conflicted on whether or not he should knock. After much deliberation, the young prince squared up his shoulders and firmly rapped his knuckles against the hard surface.

_...Knock...knock…_

Regis glanced up from his desk when the door opened further. His expression softened when he was unexpectedly greeted with his son's uncertain blue eyes. Noctis appeared uncharacteristically humbled as he walked in and closed the door behind him. His posture lacked his usual indifferent slouch and his eyes appeared to be more alert than Regis has ever seen lately.

Rather than asking what brought on the sudden visit, the king waited patiently for the quiet prince to speak first.

"...Dad," started the raven-haired boy quietly. He did his best not to fidget and avert his gaze as he took in breath to compose himself. "I want you to reinstate Gladiolus as my shield. It… it was my fault that I failed. He did everything he could to prepare me for the assessments. I was the one that skipped out on training despite his efforts. It should be me who gets punished this time… not him." In the past, apart from a thorough tongue lashing, he'd never endure any actual punishment. In hindsight, Gladio had likely gotten the brunt of it on his behalf. The uncomfortable thought made him inwardly grimace with guilt.

An unreadable expression crossed Regis' face. Noctis stood uncomfortably stiff as he waited for his father's response.

"That…" Regis started slowly as though still debating on how to respond "...Is very mature of you, Noctis. However, I will not be reinstating your former shield."

"But-" Noctis objected.

Before he could continue, Regis was quick to raise a hand to cease any further protests. As petulant as Noctis may be at times, he recognizes the difference when he's dealing with his doting father and when he's speaking to The King of Lucis. Had it been his father, the man would indulge him and listen to his every word. The king; however, demanded to be heard above all else.

"While I am proud of your sense of integrity, I will no longer express leniency with you for your accumulated failures," reasoned the monarch. His piercing blue eyes gave no room for argument as he smoothed a hand over the transfer documents on his desk. "You_ are punished_, Prince Noctis. At the present time you have no shield because indeed, _you failed_. Currently, you do not deserve one. I hope this will be a memorable lesson to you regarding the consequences of your actions."

Noctis remained silent, his gaze trailing after the movement of his father's hand. When he spotted Gladio's picture and the familiar Kingsglaive crest at the top of the document, his stomach dropped. It was only a day since the older teen's dismissal from Crownsguard and he had already been reassigned. Unconsciously, the prince's hands curled tightly into fists at his sides.

"I am, however..." continued Regis, "Not opposed to seeing his expulsion as…temporary."

"Really?" Noctis perked up at the possibility of absolution and turned his eyes hopefully at his father.

A small indulgent smile tugged at Regis' face as he folded his hands in front of him. "There are conditions."

"...Conditions?" repeated Noctis with furrowed brows.

"As you've already failed many times even with his help, this may be a difficult challenge for you," noted his father. "If you wish for Gladiolus to be reinstated as your shield. You will have to prove yourself in the upcoming assessments."

"Prove myself?" murmured Noctis.

"Yes, prove yourself. Above all, a king must always be trustworthy, for there are countless lives consigned to him; even the lives of those beyond the borders of his court and kingdom," Regis explained. Noctis couldn't help but shift uncomfortably under the weight of his words. "Prince Noctis, you must be able to defend yourself; and more importantly, the many whose lives depend on the constitution of your character."

"How… am I supposed to do that?" Noctis mumbled. Quiet and uncertain, he looked to his father for confidence and direction.

"... I do believe that the best way to truly comprehend something is when you must imbue it to another," Regis declared thoughtfully. "Clarus often tells me of his rather _spirited_ younger daughter, Iris Amicitia. Apparently, she increasingly implores those around her to train her in the ways of self-defense and combat."

Noctis' brows pinched with disconcertion. He recognized the name of Gladio's little sister, but this was sounding more and more like Aracelis' prediction of the younger Amicitia sibling becoming his new shield.

"In lieu of resuming your scheduled training with Gladiolus, instead you are to train with her. Teach her everything you have learned. You are to be responsible for her growth, success and safety, as well as your own."

At the king's suggestion, Noctis' mouth gaped in disbelief. "Teaching?" Noctis said in disbelief. "Me?"

"Yes, you," noted Regis with a hint of amusement. "In the meantime, if I see visible improvements on your upcoming assessments I will consider reinstating your former shield. Is this too difficult of a task for you?"

"What? No!" grounded Noctis, stepping forward and planting his hands on his father's desk. "I can do this!"

"If you are certain." Regis waved his hand as though giving him one last chance to back out.

"... Yes," said Noctis with quiet determination. Every part of him screamed to step back and walk away. Telling him he didn't need to do this. Telling him it would be easier to just let things go on like before. He was certain now. He will stand his ground and face the consequences of his actions.


	9. UO09: Unspoken

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Nine: Unspoken**

"Am I reading this _wrong_? You want to change your application request to _where_?" The coordinator gapped, her eyes widened at what was written on Aracelis' internship request application.

"Kingsglaive HR," replied Aracelis evenly.

"Why?" asked the woman in disbelief. "With your grades and class ranking, the internship application you submitted for the treasury department would have been approved. Someone like you would do great in financing. Why would you change your request to _human resources_? And for _Kingsglaive_ of all places?"

Any other time, Aracelis would have agreed wholeheartedly. You do not willingly choose to work for Kingsglaive if other options are available to you, especially not with the public disparity against the immigrant populated military force. As most Valetis graduates were more or less ensured a position in the Citadel, third year students are required to submit an internship application form to their department of choice.

Those who ranked lowest were relegated to unpopular departments with lower salaries and non-existent opportunities. Those who ranked higher in academic performance were granted higher priority. By all accounts, Kingsglaive was a dead end job for anyone graduating from Valetis with little to no upward mobility.

Aracelis had originally applied to treasury because it was the most inconspicuous branch. Apart from financing, city planning and trade, it had nothing to do with Crownsguard, Kingsglaive or the politics outside of Insomnia. Treasury would have kept her away from any events that were to come.

...That was before _everything _went to hell and Gladio was dismissed from Crownsguard and subsequently transferred to Kingsglaive. She wasn't sure how or why he was transferred, her childhood friend was rather dismissive about the details when pressed. If she wanted to find out anything she would have to take it into her own hands.

Hence the sudden desire to work for Kingsglaive. With her current academic performance, wealth and social standing she could easily choose from a buyers' selection of vocations, all of them promising greater prospects. However, none of those things mattered if the world was to end.

"I enjoy the challenge," lied Aracelis. "If I can excel in a difficult environment such as Kingsglaive, then I know I will be able to handle anything beyond that."

"But you are aware that once you're enlisted, it's nearly impossible to transfer. It's very unlikely for you to acquire any sort of advancement within Kingsglaive..." reasoned the woman. "If it's a challenge you want, there are better places for you to prove yourself."

When her childhood friend told her he had been transferred her heart sank. Dread crept throughout her body like an infectious disease, spreading like wildfire. Had he been transferred to any other department, she might not be as apprehensive. However, Kingsglaive are frequently deployed as the frontline unit in the war against Niflheim.

"I understand, but it's a challenge I'm willing to accept. Please amend my request form."

"...If you insist." The coordinator sighed, her brows raised in disbelief as she grabbed her stamp to approve the change.

Goal secured, she had successfully acquired a surefire way to keep updated on the ongoings in Kingsglaive and a means to keep an eye on Gladio.

She could not afford another unpredictable circumstances unfolding underneath her nose. He could well be deployed and possibly die before she finds a way to get him back into Crownsguard. A seemingly unfeasible task, according to the coordinator. It was near impossible to advance out or even transfer once you're conscripted. The woman may have been speaking strictly in terms of the Kingsglaive Bureau; but that would hardly stop her, even if it applied to the combatant division as well. She will get Gladio back into Crownsguard, one way or another.

Incidentally, there were two other individuals that must also join its ranks… In her attempts to solve the ever evolving disparities around her, Aracelis finds herself increasingly inundated. Now much more involved then she initially planned, she has yet to secure an opportune moment on confronting either Ignis or Prompto on this prospect. As she left the coordinator's office a small gaggle of her classmates walked past her. Attention focused on walking to her morning classes, she didn't take note of the passing glances and quiet whisperings behind her back. Though she paid no mind to the giggling, she was not completely blind to the ongoings within the school.

Due to spending more and more time alone with Ignis for lunch at the alcove, gossip and rumors have begun to spread that the two of them might possibly be an item. Not unexpected, after all they are the top students of their year. Based solely on appearances, they weren't making it easy for people to think there was nothing between them. He often brings her homemade meals and she in turn brings her mother's decorated baked confections, all tied with a ribbon.

Aracelis could safely ignore such high school gossip as there were much more dire circumstances at hand. Though, Ignis on the other hand was another story. While they still shared lunch together, she has the sinking suspicion that something is amiss.

"Are you avoiding me?" Aracelis questioned him while he was packing away his things at the end of their morning classes.

The majority of their classmates had left for lunch already. A few stragglers lingered to talk with their friends. Somewhere in the midst of still finishing up their note taking. Barely any of them paid any mind to the conversation unfolding between them.

"We're about to have lunch together, what makes you think I'm avoiding you?" replied Ignis evenly.

"Well, the fact that you're actively trying not to make eye contact with me is rather telling," quipped Aracelis.

"I'm not avoiding you," repeated Ignis, pointedly making an effort to look her in the eyes as he spoke.

"Hmm…Are you sure it's not because of the stupid gossip that's floating around school about us being a couple?" hummed Aracelis dryly, not quite believing him.

"It's merely gossip and nothing more," insisted Ignis, though the slight flush on his face hinted otherwise. She could see the gossip _did_ bother him to some extent.

"Okay then, what did you tell my mother when you two spoke on the phone the other day?" As she won't be able to get a straight answer out of him, Aracelis went off on a tangent.

Ignis paused, puzzled by the sudden change in question. "I told her you fell asleep and that it would be unsafe for you to drive in your tired state...Why do you ask?"

"Ugh, of course that's all you said..." Aracelis dipped down her head in exasperation.

"Was she upset that you stayed over?" Ignis' brow furrowed in confusion at the girl towering over him.  
"Upset isn't quite the right word…" muttered Aracelis under her breath. "My mother…" The girl paused, her eyes fluttered closed briefly and her teeth gnawed on her lower lip in annoyance.

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, she claimed the abandoned chair from the desk in front of his, turning it around before sitting down and facing him. Once seated, she rested her elbows on his desk, her slender fingers laced loosely underneath her chin. He stilled in his movements, glancing expectantly at her to continue.

"Remember what I said about her being passive aggressive?" continued the brunette.

Ignis' brows furrowed, his knuckles curled thoughtfully against his chin as he recalled the previous conversation they shared.

"You mentioned her rather enthusiastic approach regarding your _relaxation methods_," replied Ignis, carefully omitting her smoking habits while on school grounds. "And… That she had a habit of attempting to sway your choices… Dare I ask what she did this time?"

Aracelis stared pointedly at him as she deadpanned the answer. "...She left me a box of condoms."

"A box of..." Ignis repeated slowly before he finally processed what she said. His face grew exponentially redder as he suppressed a nervous laugh. "...She doesn't really think we're… um…" He scrambled to regain composure before offering, "Surely your mother did that in jest."

"You _really _don't want to know what else she left on my desk if that's what you believe," scoffed the brunette as she angled her face away and pressed the corner of her lips against the crook of her laced fingers.

"Ah…" Ignis paused briefly, uncertain on how to respond before finally deciding. "Then maybe it's best you leave me blissfully ignorant…"

An amused snort escaped Aracelis. She pressed the back of her hand against her lips to fight against the smile creeping onto her face. In addition to the box of condoms, her mother left her several pamphlets on safe sex, as well as booklets on child rearing and motherhood. Her mother's reaction might seem over the top, but for Aracelis it has become a ridiculous norm. Still, for his sake, she'll spare him the details… However, her smile widened even further, her body shaking with restrained laughter the moment her eyes met his unamused half-lidded gaze.

"I'm glad my discomfort amuses you," noted the other teen dully.

"I'd apologize, but I'm honestly not sorry," grinned Aracelis, shifting her posture. She tucked her legs underneath her chair, leaning forward to rest her chin on her clasped hands.

"How delightful," Ignis stated dryly. He did his best to ignore Aracelis and her poor attempt at hiding her amusement as he resumed packing the rest of his things.

"...Seriously, what is it with you two? Are you guys dating or something?" Flabio's unexpected interruption drew both their attention to their confused classmate who had just finished packing his bag.

At the sight of her self-proclaimed rival, her good humor all but disappeared. As Aracelis leaned back in her seat to talk to the other teen, her smile fell flat and her gaze disinterested.

"As per usual I see you've fallen prey to the school's gossip ring," stated the girl with a dismissive sigh. "And here I thought you had more than three braincells. Such a disappointment."

"Well _excuse_ me for asking." He retorted.

"You may be excused, now run along." Aracelis shooed him away with a disparaging flap of her hand.

"Insulting as usual," note Flabio before he slung his bag over his shoulder. "By the way, I saw you coming out of the coordinator's office earlier this morning."

"And?" Aracelis droned dully.

"Ms. Marina didn't seem happy when she walked you out. Did something happen with your internship application?" frowned the redheaded lord in waiting.

"I honestly don't think that's any of your business," dismissed the brunette haughtily.

"Come off it," huffed the other teen irritably. "In short of Ignis and myself, there isn't anyone that can actually compete with you for the most desirable vocations. No one else poses a threat. Even if you applied to the same professional departments as either of us, they still wouldn't reject your application. What's going on?"

"...That does sound concerning," murmured Ignis in agreement and turned his gaze towards the shorter girl. "I know it's probably none of my business either, but I am rather curious as well."

Now that Ignis asked, Aracelis found herself conflicted to answer. It wasn't so much that she wanted to keep her interest in Kingsglaive a secret, but rather she simply didn't want their disbelief to draw further attention to her. She knew full well how strange it was for someone of her status to show interest in Kingsglaive.

At the potential risk of the tentative friendship she's gained with Ignis, she could keep it to herself and remain elusive. However, it's not worth losing the progress she's already gained with him to avoid the minor inconvenience of explaining herself.

"It's nothing to be concerned over," grumbled Aracelis. "She's just overreacting because I switched my application to Kingsglaive. That's all. It's no big deal."

"Okay, first!" Flabio cut in, raising his index finger to make a point. "How come when I ask you a question, you ignore me, but when _Ignis_ asks the same question he gets an answer? Also, you're making it _really_ hard to believe there's _nothing_ between you two. And second!" He raises another finger, his brows scrunched up disconcertingly, eyes wild with disbelief. "What the hell do you mean you changed your application to Kingsglaive? Are you crazy? Why would you apply there? You're wasted there!"

Aracelis rolled her eyes, leaning the crook of her elbow on the back of her seat and resting her chin on the back of her hand. This was exactly what she didn't want to deal with.

"In the order of your questions," replied the girl succinctly. "_You_ **demanded** an answer whereas _Ignis_ **asked**. It's not my problem that you lack the proper etiquette to be treated civilly. As for your next string of questions regarding my sanity and competence in choosing Kingsglaive, I have to note there is _nothing_ wrong with working for Kingsglaive."

"There's everything wrong with working there!" protested the other teen. "It's a dead-end position. Everyone knows that! Only the bottom of the barrel of the worst class in Valetis would get dumped there! I mean just look at how disorganized and poorly managed they are..."

"More the reason that I should go," challenged Aracelis. "What most people don't understand is how important of a role Kingsglaive plays in our military. They are our first line of defense. The only military force that's capable of using magic in combat. I would also like to note, its ranks are comprised of mostly immigrants from the outer territories of Lucis. If you've kept up with current events, there are numerous issues concerning immigrant discrimination.

Keeping that in mind, if working conditions are the worst in that department, that implies Kingsglaive is understaffed, insufficiently funded, and not achieving its full potential. Our most important military unit is not working at maximum efficiency. If someone capable doesn't step in, this level of mismanagement will spiral into a never ending loop of chaos. Lucis could well lose the war."

While true, Aracelis didn't actually believe in half of the things she spouted. Once she gets everything back on track, Kingsglaive will once again betray King Regis and the city will fall to ruin. Any political conflict in Insomnia will become obsolete. Hard for someone to discriminate against immigrants when they themselves become refugees, the ones desperately fleeing to the towns outside their native city.

"So you think you alone can fix it?" he scoffs. "Come off it Aracelis, you're good, but not _that _good. Hell, I bet even if Ignis and I joined you in Kingsglaive, we still wouldn't be able to change anything."

"True, but change requires a catalyst," challenged the brunette. "And unless someone starts it, nothing will ever change."

"You do that then. Tell me how that goes," stated Flabio disdainfully before puffing up his chest with self-importance. "While you play in the sandbox with Kingsglaive, _I'm_ going to be joining Crownsguard."

"..._You're_ joining Crownsguard?" Aracelis' voice raised in disbelief. "Can you even fight?"

"Just because your family works for the Amicitia doesn't mean that you know everything there is to Crownsguard," huffs Flabio. "Unlike Kingsglaive, there are many opportunities within Crownsguard. Not all of which involve _fighting._" He practically spat the word in disdain. A moment later his face lit up. "Actually, my father tells me there might be an opening soon to be the _prince's_ advisor. It's just a passing rumor, but they're looking for candidates that are close—"

"Like hell you're going to be his advisor!" snapped Aracelis before he could finish his words. "If anyone's going to be his highness' advisor—that's Ignis!"

"Excuse me?" He stared at her dumbfounded, affronted by her ardent outburst.

Ignis stared in surprise at her, caught off by the sudden loudness of her declaration. This was not the first time he's heard Aracelis declare his suitability to be the prince's advisor.

"As you are," she took a breath. "You can't handle the prince." Aracelis reasoned in an attempt to defend her adamant claim, so as to not look completely insane. "He needs someone calm and composed. Someone capable of steering him into making the right choices. Not a self-centered imbecile like you."

"I take offense to that." He griped, raising his fingers yet again to make a point. "First, you claim I'm not fit for Crownsguard and then you claim Ignis can do a better job than me. How much you want _to bet_ that Ignis can't fight either?"

Aracelis sighs in defeat. She knows full well that Flabio has her locked in a ceaseless loop of annoying questions and that reluctantly, she must admit this is actually a very good point. In the original timeline, Ignis knew how to fight, not because he trained alongside the prince, but he was chosen as Noctis' advisor and no doubt groomed for the part. Perhaps with the exception of a kitchen knife, it was highly possible that this Ignis has never even touched an actual weapon.

"So you admit fighting is a factor in joining Crownsguard," noted Aracelis.

"Let's _ignore _the combat factor of Crownsguard for now," scowled Flabio before continuing his debate. "Let's say that Ignis _can_ fight or that he'll learn how to later. Barring combat prowess, there are still other determining factors on suitability to be the prince's advisor. Diplomacy for example. While I agree with you that Ignis is overall the calmest and most collected student in our year, it does not mean his diplomacy skills are superior to mine."

"And there goes that narcissistic attitude," inserts Aracelis offhandedly.

"You call it narcissism, I call it… healthy self-assurance," countered the redhead. "Diplomacy isn't necessarily all about maintaining peace. It's also about knowing when to put your foot down and stand your ground. While peace is ideal, we cannot allow ourselves to be exploited in order to appease everyone. Otherwise it's no different to rolling over and surrendering to the enemy. The goal is not to keep peace, but rather to find something that works for both sides to agree upon to stop the conflict. Sometimes aggressive action is a necessary evil. What do you think Ignis?"

"...It really depends," noted Ignis with a slight apologetic glance to Aracelis. "However, I'm inclined to agree if the situation calls for it. Out of context, it's only a matter of speculation."

"Naturally," agreed Flabio flippantly. "But this is in the context that as long as someone is capable of seeing the big picture and reaching the desired outcome, they don't necessarily need to be calm and composed to do it."

The world might as well end now. Flabio was being an overall pestilence with his inane questions and riddles, as usual. Whereas Ignis was misusing a quintessential skill of his for thrill seeking in street races. To make matters worse, she wasn't sure what to make of the baroness-in-waiting, Claire Auburn.

Aracelis worried that she might be irrationally paranoid regarding the future baroness. On the one hand, she seems like any other rich nobleman's child, reckless and uncouth. On the other, her mannerisms bore an uncanny resemblance to a certain accursed immortal. Worse yet, Claire's red car matched the one Noctis had to follow on the drive to the Disc of Cauthess in the original timeline.

With Ardyn's ability to replicate anyone's appearance in the eyes of others, it was hard to dismiss the possibility. Still… she mustn't assume every single person who comes across Noctis and his retinue was the man in disguise. Not that she could do anything if she were to come across Ardyn, but if Noctis does not eventually acquire the sharp, discerning, combat ready version of Ignis by his side, she can't imagine what's to come.

"We're all doomed," muttered Aracelis under her breath.

At her pessimistic response, he throws a hand up in frustration, glancing to Ignis before motioning aggressively in the girl's direction to emphasize his agitation. The other teen could only tilt his head helplessly in response, much akin to a shrug.

"Whatever," dismissed Flabio casually, seemingly losing all interest in the previous string of arguments. "By the way, you never did say where you applied to for your internship."

"Ah… I haven't handed mine in yet," admitted Ignis quietly.

"Serious?" asked Flabio in disbelief. "Between you and Aracelis, I thought you of all people would have handed it in ages ago. Why the delay?"

"That's… because I'm still rather undecided on where to apply," replied Ignis honestly.

Aracelis perked up at that revelation. If he hasn't chosen yet, she might still have a chance to convince him to apply to Crownsguard. However, before she could even attempt to take advantage of the golden opportunity, Flabio hastily cut her off.

"Ah! Bup-bup!" The redhead nearly shouted as he slashed his hand down to interrupt her. "You claimed you're not his girlfriend. Let the man choose on his own, woman!"

If a glare could kill, Flabio would be six feet under, his corpse charred beyond recognition.

"I don't care what either of you say," grinned the redheaded teen cheekily. "I bet you guys just aren't the sort to _kiss and tell_. I see how this is."

"And I bet you're not the sort who can properly assess reality," countered Aracelis dryly.

"Ignoring what you have against me—because by this point I think it's your default reaction regardless of what I do or say." Flabio pressed a hand against his brow in annoyance. "Have you ever considered where Ignis wanted to go or what he wanted to do? It just sounds like you're bossing him around and forcing him into things against his will."

Aracelis froze, warily glancing to Ignis. She's done well to avoid casting suspicion behind her intentions, but if he plants a seed of distrust, she will not be able to fatefully maneuver Ignis. Everything depends on Ignis getting onto the prince's payroll.

"...It may seem that way," noted Ignis after a moment. "But I don't believe it's out of malice. Aracelis has… an odd way of showing concern for others."

Relief flooded the brunette, melting away the tension she hadn't quite realized overtook her body. She just needs to shut Flabio up before he ruins everything.

"Contrary to your insinuation," stated Aracelis evenly, fighting back her desire to snarl at the lord-in-waiting as she attempts to mend the situation. "Unlike us who are certain of what we want to do with our futures, Ignis may need some more time to decide. It would be unwise for him to decide so recklessly… even if I think he is _more _than capable of outperforming you in Crownsguard."

"Again!" Flabio draws his hand away from his brow and sharply flicks his hand aside. "Why do I stand here and take this?"

"Because you never learn," quipped Aracelis.

"I'm leaving!" Flabio bristled, finally bored with the conversation, but not before shouting one last thing to Ignis. "Don't let her dictate what you do Ignis! That is… unless she is your girlfriend. Then, best do what she says!"

With that, he skipped out of the room and slammed the door behind him leaving Ignis and Aracelis alone with the scant few confused classmates that caught the tail end of their exchange.

"...Must you antagonize him every time you two talk?" Ignis inquired curiously once everything's settled back down.

"Yes, he's insufferable," griped Aracelis before she got up to grab her bag and the daily box of her mother's confections. "Let's go to lunch. I don't want to talk about him anymore."

Ignis shook his head in amusement as he finished packing up his bag and followed her out of the room to their usual spot.

* * *

"Your transfer is a bit unorthodox," stated Drautos as he and Gladio walked through the tall formal corridors of the Citadel. "Normally, Kingsglaive are chosen for their proficiency in wielding his majesty's magic. You are… a rather odd exception."

Gladio frowned, following his newly appointed Captain.

"Your combat proficiency is promising and is much higher than most of our new recruits, but as you cannot wield magic, we cannot exactly set you up in a regular Kingsglaive unit. Most of them are meant to engage in aerial-based combat with warp-strikes or magic attacks," explained the older man. "If we send you out on the field, you'd likely become a liability."

"...Then what exactly will I be doing?" asked the former shield curtly, clenching his fist tightly at the belittling notion.

"It's best I allow your squad leader explain that to you," noted Drautos. "He'll go into further detail."

"And that would be—" Gladio paused when he spotted a familiar Galahdian Kingsglaive leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a shit eating grin on his face. "You!"

"Heya kiddo," greeted Nyx playfully as he pulled his hand away to give a friendly wave. He pushed away from the wall, arms uncrossed and his body casually slipped into the standard Kingsglaive stance. His arms folded uniformly behind his back as they came to a stop in front of them.

It's been quite some time since he last saw the older glaive. Though they parted on good terms with an open invitation for further cross training sessions, the Amicitia heir never took up their offer. Between training the prince and worrying over the teen's royal assessments, Crownsguard duties had dominated his life. Until his father informed him of this impromptu transfer, Gladio hadn't thought about Kingsglaive.

"Impatient as always Ulric," sighed Drautos in exasperation at the rugged glaive.

"You know me, sir," replied Nyx in good humor, but his attention remained on the disgruntled teen. "Thought I'd pick-up the newbie. I requested for him after all."

"Since it seems that you're both well acquainted, I'll leave him to you," noted the captain before he glanced towards Gladio one last time. "Welcome to Kingsglaive."

"Sir!" the teen all but saluted to the man with how stiffly he stood.

The two stood attention until Drautos was out of sight. Once gone, Nyx held up two fingers and gestured Gladio to follow him, the smirk never leaving his face as he began to stroll on ahead. Begrudgingly, the teen trailed after him. Even though he's walked through the Citadel a hundred times over during his interim as Crownsguard, it felt different now as Kingsglaive. Following after the older glaive was unexpectedly… disorienting.

The uniform was not heavier or lighter than the one he previously wore, but the weight it bore on his shoulders felt comparably different. For one, it was uncomfortably light. The differences only continued to grow as they left the cool sterile air that circulated the building and into the courtyard that's tainted with the faint scent of city pollution. It was a far cry from an open field surrounded by nature, but not something Gladio hated. In fact, it was almost preferable compared to being indoors all day.

"Look who I brought!" Nyx announced with a hearty sing-song tinging his voice.

Gladio came to a stop when the older man jostled him with a friendly arm hook over his shoulder and pulled him into an unwanted headlock. A scowl crossed the young Amicitia's face. He reached up to push the man's arm away, but paused when he spotted the group of laid-back glaives lounging casually about the courtyard.

Streaks of blue light and soft explosions flitted above the courtyard as the more active glaives went about their warp training. Those on the ground level trained at their own pace with either magic manipulation or physical combat. Unlike Crownsguard's pristine training rooms that are well-equipped and frequently maintained, Kingsglaive's training ground is open to the elements with nothing but the ruined pillars situated in the middle.

"Long time no see!" greeted Libertus affably before turning to the rest of the glaives. "Drinks' on Luche! Nyx got the kid!"

A mix of cheers and playful jeering rang out through the courtyard. Standing in the shadows, the glaive Luche scowled, upset at a bet decided prior to Gladio's arrival. Others around him snickered and elbowed him gleefully. The man scoffed, roughly shrugging off the playful jesting. He threw up a single hand acknowledging his defeat, fingers curled as if signaling a drink. Grouchily, he stormed off with two other glaives following him.

It was no different from the last time he was here.

"So, looks like you're Kingsglaive after all," commented a familiar voice smugly.

Gladio turned his attention to the speaker and found a dark-haired woman idly flipping a dagger in her hand. He immediately recognized her as Crowe, who had mistakenly dragged him off to Kingsglaive the first time.

"Crowe!" Libertus hissed, raising a hand in a quick cutting gesture.

"What?" retorted the woman in annoyance.

Libertus turned towards a set of glaives engaged in the middle of a spar. "Elea! Take five, the kid's going to train with Gutsco for a bit!"

"Guess he's just going to toss you in, kid." Nyx snorted in amusement. He released his hold on Gladio and slapped the teen's shoulder to usher him forward. "Go get 'em!"

"Get what?" Gladio frowned, grounding his feet so he wouldn't tumble forward from the shove. "You haven't told me what I'm supposed to do."

"I thought it was obvious," grinned the older man. "Beat 'em until they get good. You can do that much, can't you?"

"What Nyx is trying to say," interrupted Libertus in an exasperated huff. "You'll be helping out with training the glaives who are lacking in close combat."

Gladio paused in order to process the irony of this placement. First, they dismissed him from Crownsguard for failing to train the prince properly. Now, he is in Kingsglaive training his seniors in this department. This must be a horrible cosmic joke.

"You know where the weapons are, hop to it!" continued Crowe dismissively as she sauntered off.

A stash of battle equipment laid in a discreet corner. Gladio broke away from the three older glaives in silent discontent and made his way to the weapon rack for the great sword. From what he remembered the quality of the weapons were poor and unwieldy. It was difficult for even the likes of him to handle. All the blades in Crownsguard were well-crafted and balanced to perfection. He didn't need to think twice about adjusting and working around those blades.

As Nyx so crudely stated, all he needed to do was_ beat them until they get good_.

_Forward strike_

With a new task to focus on, Gladio allowed the weight of the sword and the rhythm of the fight to take over. Everything about his placement in Kingsglaive was unconventional.

_Guard_

If this was Crownsguard, a new recruit like him would not be in charge of training his seniors. They would be the one to train him…Kingsglaive's strength lies in their ability to use magic and warp-strikes. Take that away and it becomes a laughably one-sided fight in Gladio's favor. However, since he cannot use magic and his combat prowess is above the majority of them, it makes sense for them to assign him to combat training.

_Parry, side-step _

One after another, he executed the moves with perfected practice. The glaives facing him did the same in varying levels of successes and failures.

_Overhead strike_

Whereas he was fully aware of every second he spent while training Noctis, he barely noticed it with Kingsglaive. Unlike the prince, they were far more receptive of critique and actually using it to improve during the spar. He hadn't realized how easy it was to get lost in the motions, until Libertus called for a break and the glaives broke away for lunch.

Before Gladio could go off on his own to the cafeteria Nyx caught his arm, turning him around.

"Woah there." Nyx hastily steered him from the path. "Where do you think you're going?"

"The cafeteria." He answered tersely, swatting off the man's hand.

"Yeah… you're not going to want to eat from there," warned Nyx before slapping a wrapped protein bar into the younger glaive's stomach. "You're going to want to start packing lunch. It's a bit of a trek for somewhere half decent around here."

Gladio took hold of the offering and glanced to Nyx with furrowed brows. "...Why are you doing this?"

Nyx arched a single brow.

"...You requested me for Kingsglaive! Tell me why?" He demanded, eyes simmering with the threat of rising anger.

"Why not?" continued Nyx. "Not like you have anything else better to do."

Gladio glared at the older man, his nose flared in agitation. His fists clenched tightly at his sides. "Stop shitting me." Gladio snapped, and with a single hand he crushed the token, dropping it at Nyx's feet.

The older glaive glanced at the discarded gift on the ground. His brows furrowed pensively and his lips puckered with interest. Decisively, Nyx returned his gaze to the younger glaive, crossing his arms and leaning his weight onto his back leg discarding his previous carefree stance.

"I don't know what the hell you're getting out of this, but enough of this comradery!" continued Gladio. "I may not be in Crownsguard anymore, but I don't need you to pity me!"

"Fair enough," nodded Nyx in agreement. "What do you want then?"

_What __**did **__he want?_ Gladio pauses, not expecting the question.

At this, Nyx smiles knowingly. "Go back to Crownsguard?" supplied the older glaive. "Not sure why you'd want that. I mean, they practically kicked you out despite all you've done."

Red suddenly filled his vision, and before Gladio could stop himself, his fist pulled back and he swung at the older glaive. In a second, Nyx sidestepped, leaving a soft blue after image behind. The Galahdian grabbed the offending arm and looped a leg around to kick the other behind the knee. Within seconds, the Amicitia dropped to the ground. The experienced soldier sat on his back, locking his arm at an angle that made it impossible to move.

"Woah, woah! Easy there…" Nyx murmured, as if pacifying a wild animal.

"Shut up! What do you know about Crownsguard!" Gladio screamed, thrashing and struggling against the older man's hold. His chest burned and his face reddened with exertion.

Nyx patiently kept a firm hold on the younger glaive as his words became incoherent denunciations. By the time the other glaives returned, Gladio had all but exhausted himself, face planted on the ground in defeat.

"...What's up with the kid?" asked Libertus in concern, being the first to return from the group.

"... He's just getting something out of his system," supplied Nyx casually. "Don't worry about it. He's about done."

"You sure?" Libertus pressed, not quite trusting Nyx at his word.

"Of course!" answered Nyx readily as he glanced down to the trapped teen beneath him. Gladio's breathing was beginning to even out. "You're good now, right kid?"

Not trusting his voice, Gladio reluctantly nodded.

Certainty never leaving his face, Nyx gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before he hopped off. With the weight lifted, Gladio shuffled onto his arms and knees. He was in the middle of shifting onto a crouch when a gloved hand reached out to him. A frown pinched at the bridge of his nose, as his gaze followed it back to Nyx's smiling face.

Instead of taking the offered hand, he broke eye contact and got up on his own. At the rejection, Nyx silently pulled back with both hands held up in surrender. Gladio privately scoffed at Nyx and his unbidden goodwill. He will handle himself, Crownsguard or no.

* * *

Noctis stood in front of the large ornate doors to the training hall. Between the royal assessments and his past experience with Gladio's unyielding training, he's grown to dislike the sight of the domineering doors. Regardless of how much he wanted to be anywhere besides here, _today _was not a day he could simply skip out on. Taking a deep breath, Noctis steeled himself before he pushed the sturdy doors open. The loud creak from the latch opening echoed the halls. On the other side, Cor waited expectantly with his arms crossed and his expression stern.

"Your highness," greeted the Marshal, his voice rumbled in a low baritone. "Glad to see you're on time."

Noctis returned the greeting with a silent nod, not quite accustomed to having the man as his new handler. In the ironic clarity of hindsight, he wanted Gladio back as his trainer. However, until he's proven himself to his father that may not become a reality for some time. The king's personal condition for reinstating Gladio as his Shield was for him to train Iris Amicitia demonstrating real proficiency, leadership and growth. The very notion filled him with tension.

His gaze drifted about the stark training hall anxious to make her acquaintance. When he didn't immediately spot the little girl, a tinge of discouragement flooded him. He wondered idly if perhaps this was what his former shield endured whenever he skipped out.

"BOO!" shouted a girlish voice before a small child of eight popped out from behind Cor's earnest and stiff frame. A bright smile spread across her face, her small hands gripped lightly at the hem of the man's blazer.

Noctis paused, blankly staring at the small excitable child.

"Aw!" Iris pulled away from Cor, her cheeks puffed up indignantly. "I didn't scare you at all!"

Not truly bothered by her failed attempt, the bright smile quickly returned to her face.

"...You're nothing like your brother Gladio at all," muttered Noctis under his breath, noting more so to himself than to anyone else.

"Dad said Gladdy got fired. So, does that mean I get to be your Shield? Do I get to fight bad guys and kick butt?" Iris hopped from foot to foot with her hands bunched up and ready for mock punches.

Noctis looked to the Marshal for guidance. The man remained stoic and unaffected by the little girl's childish antics. In his opinion, assigning Cor, the Crownsguard Marshal to this task was overkill; however, the council had demanded a more stringent taskmaster to formally oversee his training.

Expression strained, the prince abandoned hope that Cor will come to his rescue. Iris sounded like she might actually enjoy being a Shield if given the chance. So much for ripping a little girl away from the carefree life she knows. His father mentioned Iris had been hounding people for training prior to this. Noctis paused, recounting the routine of his sessions with Gladio. The older Amicitia always started with warmups by going through the basic stances. As stringent as the older teen was with him, he made certain that Noctis never injured himself from carelessness.

"...How about we start with the basics?" suggested Noctis after a moment.

"_Basiiiics_?" whined Iris. Her hands dropped to her sides in disappointment. "But that's soooo _boring_!"

"If you swing a sword without learning how to properly hold it, you'll get hurt," noted Noctis bluntly. "Do you want to get hurt?"

At his words, Iris turned indignantly to Cor for help, much like he did barely a moment ago. As with the prince, the Marshall remained stoic and unmoving, determined to stay neutral through and through. Seeing she wasn't going to get the man's help, she deflated.

"...Fiiine." Iris kicked the tip of her shoe petulantly at the ground.

The younger Amicitia was nothing like how Noctis imagined. While he really didn't expect Iris to be as disciplined as Gladio, the girl was easily distracted, prone to fits of boredom and highly energetic. If she wasn't dragging the wooden practice sword on the ground, she was swinging it wildly and without aim. It was a feat to keep her focused, let alone teach.

By the time the session finished, Noctis wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the week away. To make matters worse, he reluctantly gained a newfound respect for his shield. Gladio had made it seem so easy.

Iris skipped ahead, speeding down the Citadel steps with her arms held out for balance. At the last four steps she braced herself, crouching briefly before leaping off. "Whee!"  
"Iris!" Noctis yelped when he saw her jump.

However, his concern was unnecessary. Iris landed on her feet and twirled around to face him with a curious tilt to her head.

"What?" She called back, wondering why he sounded so worried.

"...Never mind," breathed Noctis, his shoulders slumped in exhausted relief. The steps, while not steep, were much wider and longer than the average stairs. Just because he had tripped over them on several occasions when he was a child, didn't mean Iris would.

"Well, well, well... isn't this a rare sight?" drawled a faux playful voice. "_Good day_ to you, your highness."

Noctis turned to the source of the voice and found a security guard dragging Baron Auburn's daughter by the arm with handcuffs chained to her wrists.

The dark-haired young woman slowly meandered towards the steps despite the guard's attempts to hurry her along in anorther direction. She was clearly being obtuse with her sly grin and blasé attitude. When her gaze drifted away from him and towards the younger girl, Noctis found himself tensing and speeding up his steps.

He stiffly lengthened his steps, attempting to clear the rest of the distance between him and Iris without appearing too obvious. "...Lady Claire," greeted Noctis rigidly.

Noctis couldn't quite put his finger on exactly what it was about the future baroness that disagreed with him. He's only met the older girl a handful of times, and she always seemed wild and free-spirited. Had Noctis acted like her in any manner, Gladio's dismissal would've been the least of his troubles. Anyone who attempted to tell her what she can and cannot do was dismissed or purposefully annoyed.

Even so, he cannot forget what his father tasked him with. If he was to train Iris properly, he needed to get the younger Amicitia away from her.

"I see you have company today," continued the older girl.

"Hi! I'm Iris! Nice to meet you Lady Claire!" Iris waved.

"_And you_," replied Claire with a playful lilt to her voice.

"What brings you to the Citadel?" asked Noctis evenly once he made it to Iris.

"Oh, _you know_, the usual. A little chaos here, a little mayhem there. It's all in good fun, the police seriously have no sense of humor," sighed Claire with mock drama.

"I see you've kept yours through and through," noted Noctis as he slipped a hand around Iris' shoulders. "I'd like to talk more, but I'm afraid we'll have to cut our conversation short. Iris needs to get home before her curfew."

"No I—" Iris began to deny his words, but the prince had already ushered her along.

"Good day Lady Claire," concluded Noctis, not giving the smaller girl a chance to say more.

"And we've only just begun talking, such a pity," sighed Claire. "Another day then, _highness_… _little miss_."

"Uh… bye then!" quipped Iris in confusion before she glanced back and shouted one last thing. "I like your hat!"

"Do you?" The grin widened on Claire's face. An oversized and out of place fedora sat atop her head. "I nicked it off Lord Flavius on the way in."

"Enough!" grumbled the security guard as he tugged the cheeky dark-haired young woman away.

Noctis did his best not to pay attention to the Auburn heir while he hastily ushered Iris along. Thankfully, the younger girl seemed to have picked up his urgency and said nothing more until they were well out of range of the older girl.

"...Why are we avoiding Lady Claire?" asked Iris quietly. "Did I do something wrong?"

Noctis paused, his gaze dropped to Iris' earnest and confused face. She seems so excited at the prospect of becoming his new shield, he didn't want to confess that he was training her to get her brother back for the position. He wanted to avoid broaching the subject for as long as he could, but he found himself unable to continue the farce.

Encountering Claire made him realize he mustn't treat Iris the same way he treated Gladio. Unlike her brother who was raised and groomed to be Noctis' shield, Iris was clueless to the inner workings of the Citadel. He couldn't expect her to follow him and accept his words at face value. He needed to teach and guide her much like how Gladio had done for him.

"...No, you didn't do anything wrong," started Noctis gently as he knelt down to her eye level and took hold of her hands. "But I do have to tell you something."

"What?" asked Iris, worry clear on her face.

"I'm the one who got Gladio fired," admitted the prince. The younger girl's eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't take my lessons as seriously as I should have and Gladio was punished for my mistakes."

"Oh…" Iris' brows furrowed in thought. "So… were you just making sure we don't get in trouble then?"

"Sort of." Noctis shrugged his shoulders in an uncertain gesture before he squared up. "Look, I'm… trying to fix things and get Gladio back as my shield and for that to happen, I have to train you to prove that I can be trusted. I know you were excited about possibly becoming my shield but—"

"It's okay." Iris swiftly cut him off. She pulled her hands away from his and planted them firmly on his shoulders. "Gladdy's definitely the better shield, the bestest even!"

"You're… okay with this?" Noctis faltered in confusion.

"Uh-huh," nodded the younger girl brightly. "I'm not a very good shield if you have to protect me. So, let's help you get Gladdy back!"

Noctis was at a loss for words. Iris was far more understanding and mature than he initially took her for. Maybe training her wouldn't be as bad as he imagined.


	10. UO10: Viscaria

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Ten: Viscaria **

"There," grunted Gladio once the two long couches were pushed against the wall. "That should be enough room."

"Why do we need this much room?" huffed Prompto as he tumbled onto the couch in a tired flop.

"Space wouldn't be an issue if Gladio wouldn't throw me into the ceiling without warning _every_ time we do this." Aracelis scowled.

"It's not like I ever dropped you." He scoffed with his arms crossed. "I always catch you afterwards."

"...Ceiling?" Noctis mouthed silently to Prompto in horror.

Confused by the whole exchange, Ignis cleared his voice with a cough. Basking in the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun, Ignis stood beside the autumn-chilled ceiling to floor windows in the Amicitia living room. He held a quizzical Talcott in his arms as he watched the proceedings.

Gladio along with Noctis and Prompto were maneuvering the coffee table and couch against the wall while Aracelis was busy rearranging a bouquet of flowers on the dining table in the other half of the room. Iris rambled away by her side describing how she and Noctis had to scour the Citadel's gardens to find these viscaria flowers.

Ignis was still at a loss as to why this gathering came to be. His morning started with an aggressive weekend brunch invite from Aracelis—likely to appease her overly doting mother. One moment, he was in the Hester's living room reading to Talcott and the next, Aracelis came storming into the house. He was confused as to why she was carrying a bouquet of flowers, but before he had the chance to ask, the brunette grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him up and out of the house with Talcott in tow.

From how Aracelis and Gladio argued over one thing or another, Ignis half-expected the two to have yet another fallout when the lot of them crossed paths with the older teen. Contrary to his expectation, their quarreling did not happen. Instead, the older Amicitia's gaze gravitated to the bouquet. Neither he nor Aracelis exchanged words, but the two seemingly came to a mutual understanding of sorts. Idly, Ignis wondered if there was a _meaning_ to these flowers.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly are we doing that requires Aracelis getting tossed into the ceiling?" He inquired as he glanced at the height of the room. There could have been a second floor if the ceiling was lower.

"Dancing lessons!" cheered Iris. "You know, for Princess Lunafreya's Regency Ball that's coming up."

Ignis paused at the younger Amicitia's declaration. Of course, the ball was to celebrate Princess Lunafreya's one-year regency while her mother, Queen Silva left Tenebrae to perform her oracle duties. Along with the majority of the upper echelon, Crownsguard and those of noble standing were also expected in attendance. As the heir to his uncle's countship, Ignis was expected to participate.

"Noct and I were supposed to take lessons in the Citadel, but that's sooo boring!" complained Iris. "So I thought it would be more fun if Gladdy and Arie taught us instead!"

"Unfortunately," muttered Aracelis under her breath as she shuffled the bouquet into the vase.

"It's going to be so much fun!" Iris flailed her arms in excitement. "I never got to go before! But since Gladdy has to stand guard as Kingsglaive, dad said I can go. As long as Arie's willing to take me."

Aracelis pointedly said nothing. It was obvious to him that she would rather stay home than go to this ball. He's attended similar events in the past with his uncle in order to prepare him for the day he inherits the counthood. In his experience, these formal evening commemorations weren't intended to be jovial so much as ceremonial. A chance for the aristocracy to reaffirm or estimate public relations with one another.

It was the kind of event where one too many social slip ups could cost you your reputation. It's a fine balancing act to make your presence known without becoming a nuisance. Not to say these parties were completely unpleasant. He's grown fond of sampling and investigating the various exotic cooking from the other regions of Lucis offered during these gatherings. Perhaps this time, they will serve the customary cuisines known to Tenebrae. Given the guest of honor is the new regent, Princess Lunafreya.

"I see…" murmured Ignis before he glanced to Prompto curiously. "Will you be attending the ball as well, Prompto?"

"Who me?" Prompto pointed to himself in confusion before shaking his head. "I mean I'd love to, but I don't exactly have an invite. And Noct's not really in a position to ask for a plus—oomph!"

Ignis blinked when the prince discreetly elbowed Prompto in the stomach. The blond paused in confusion and glanced to his raven-haired friend in question. Noctis didn't look to him, but his gaze was obviously averted to not meet anyone in the eye. Quickly, alarm and confusion crossed Prompto's face before his eyes widened in realization.

"I mean, it's no big deal!" He hastily amended, dismissing his previous comment.

"Come on, move, move, move!" Gladio clapped his hands, loudly grabbing everyone's attention. "We don't have all day."

Ignis barely knew the older teen beyond the few short meetings where they encountered one another. However, contrary to Gladio's impatience, he seemed fairly excited about the lesson. Ignis had only acquired basics due to being the heir to his uncle's counthood, but it's quite possible that the Amicitia genuinely enjoys dancing.

Even so, the quiet teen found himself a curious spectator to the lesson. Since he didn't need to partake in the actual lesson, he took to keeping Talcott at bay from stumbling onto their makeshift dance floor. The toddler was less than agreeable for the most part, constantly squirming and trying to crawl out of his arms. It wasn't until the lesson was underway and the dulcet ballroom melodies filled the room that the toddler finally decided to settle down and watch with rapt attention.

Exuding the assertive presence of the Amicitia line, Gladio took command of the room. Prompto and Noctis fell in line, having been trained by the older teen before. Albeit, the blond more readily than the prince. From the moment Aracelis herded the group over to the Amicitia household, the raven-haired teen was on eggshells around both Aracelis and Gladio.

Could Gladio's guard placement at Kingsglaive have anything to do with the prince's current unease?

"Given the ball's less than a month away," noted Gladio shortly after explaining how to match the type of dance to the melody being played. "Your best bet is to focus on the foxtrot and the waltz. That'll cover the three-beat and four-beat rhythm songs."

The notable lack of aggressive chastising aside, Gladio took to showing the group the necessary footsteps to the foxtrot with Aracelis as his dance partner. Back tense and ready for anything, Aracelis was akin more to a duelist than a dance partner as the two skillfully glided around their makeshift dance floor.

"Slow, slow, quick, quick and—" Gladio repeated the pattern every two wide strides forward, followed by a quick sidestep to the left, mirrored in reverse by the brunette.

Whereas the Amicitia lead with grace and confidence, his dance partner was decidedly alert. The brunette's focus was solely on the muscular teen attempting to preempt his movements. Her tense grip on his shoulder was made all the more apparent by the creases on his gray hoodie.

By the third rotation around the room, Ignis finally witnessed exactly why she was so anxious. At the last step, the muscular teen suddenly—and without warning—lifted his dance partner and swung her into the air. Even the death grip she had on him was not enough to prevent the momentum of the throw.

"GLADIO!" screeched Aracelis in anger as she went flying towards the high ceiling.

Ignis, along with Noctis and Prompto gaped in horror. Talcott and Iris on the other hand clapped gleefully, blissfully ignorant of the terror of being thrown in such a manner. With a flourished spin, Gladio moved into position to catch the freckled-brunette, as if it was all part of the dance. The moment Aracelis' feet landed, she was quick to push away from the older teen and began pummeling his arm.

"I—told—you—to—STOP THROWING ME!" exclaimed the infuriated girl.

Undeterred by his friend's ire the Amicitia sniggered, parrying her hands and dodging her attempts at hitting him. It was obvious that he was purposely riling her up. Aracelis, expecting this from the start, appeared more annoyed than actually angry.

Ignis couldn't help but be reminded of his repetitive exchanges with his uncle. Albeit, those were nowhere as violent or as personal as what these two shared. Ignis was quick to squash down the ugly sense of jealousy that bubbled up in his chest.

"Hey big guy, you're not expecting us to throw our dance partners are you?" asked Prompto flippantly before flexing an arm. "Cause apart from you, the rest of us are seriously lacking in the muscle department."

"Speak for yourself," quipped Noctis. "I can throw you easy, now that you're my size."

"No one's throwing anyone!" snapped Aracelis. "Ignis! You're taking over the lesson! Gladio, you can teach Iris while babysitting Talcott."

Gladio guffawed behind her as she stormed over to him.

"A-Are you certain?" Ignis asked, taken aback as the toddler was plucked away from him. Talcott happily clung to his sister before cradling into the older Amicitia's arms.

"I've had enough of being thrown into the ceiling for one day," grumbled Aracelis impatiently. She marched back to pull him away from the floor to ceiling windows and toward their makeshift dance floor. "Since Gladio has already shown them the foxtrot—horribly I might add." Here she shot a dirty glare to her old friend before returning her attention to Ignis. "You can show them the waltz."

Seeing his hesitation, Aracelis rolled her eyes. His back and shoulders involuntarily went stiff as she pulled one hand to her waist and clasped the other in her own. In a shallow breath, Ignis regathered himself and corrected his posture. He waited for the appropriate beat of the melody before he warily led the dance.

"**One**_, _two, three—" Ignis emphasized on the first beat, repeating the pattern in a demonstrative manner as they proceeded with the dance.

_Right foot forward, left foot sidestep and right foot follows_

Each move he made, the shorter girl mirrored in reverse.

_Left foot back, right foot sidestep and left foot follows_

The two danced across the room without a single misstep. She was like a wind-up toy, pitter-pattering around after being wound up. It would be no surprise to him if Aracelis memorized the steps as if dancing was another class assignment.

_Rotate and repeat_

The awkwardness of being in such close proximity with another person normally would have made him uncomfortable. This... wasn't as bad as he initially feared. Despite the mechanical quality to their motions she was clearly more relaxed with him than with her previous dance partner.

They went through the set two more times before he loosened his hold around her waist and lifted their hands over head. Tentatively, Ignis met her gaze before she dutifully twirled through. Their hands remained clasped as they took a step back to spread their free arm wide. In a finishing display they pulled back into their initial dance position.

A faint smile crossed Aracelis for the first time since the dance started and Ignis found himself returning it. So caught up in the dance, he had almost forgotten about their audience until Iris clapped loudly. Aracelis' smile widened as she broke away to give the younger girl an indulging curtsy. It was just like the brunette to be proud of a job well done, regardless of circumstance.

Aracelis stood up from her curtsy. Not wasting a single moment, she directed her attention to the prince and the blond. "Now that you've seen both dances, let's get to practicing. Prompto, you're with me. Noctis, you're with Ignis."

"Wait! I'm with—" Prompto yelped as the older girl grabbed his arm and dragged him off to another corner of the dance floor.

He turned to Noctis with the intention to start the boy on the basic steps, but paused when he noticed a somber expression on his face.

"Is something the matter, highness?" Ignis asked when he noticed Noctis' gaze lingering on Prompto and Aracelis.

"Aracelis… I think she's still angry at me," murmured the prince.

"Angry?" repeated Ignis curiously.

"I mean… You saw how quickly she avoided me," reasoned Noctis. "She's probably still angry that I…" He shook his head, unable to finish. "The only reason this whole dancing lesson is _even a thing _is because Iris was the one who asked for it..."

"Is that what she said," Ignis glanced over to Aracelis before continuing. "Or what you believe?" Noctis silently followed his line of sight.

Prompto frantically apologized as the older girl fought back a grimace. From the looks of the situation, the blond must have accidentally stepped on her foot. Despite Aracelis' insistence that she was fine, he continued to nervously beg for forgiveness. It became so incessant that Aracelis had to slap a hand over his mouth to silence him.

Noctis pulled his gaze away from the pair returning his glance to the older teen.

Ignis carefully pieced together his next words. "Aracelis… is a straightforward person. If she really didn't want you in her presence, she would be more obvious about it. She's not exactly one to mince words."

The raven-haired prince's brows pinched in confusion. He said nothing, choosing to observe the two in question.

Ignis began to explain, "I haven't known Aracelis for long, Gladio even less, but I have noticed that the two share something in common."

"Again Prompto," sighed Aracelis. In her attempts to stop Prompto from constantly apologizing, she had taken to reciting a peculiar little song about _chocobos_ of all things. "And, _I—want—to—ride—my—chocobo—_" She sang it—quite off key one may note—in a waltz rhythm as a means to distract him.

Gladio fared no better with his much shorter and more hyperactive pupil. He awkwardly held up Talcott in an upright position directly in front of Iris, using the squirming and giggling toddler as a makeshift dance partner for her. Despite his clumsy efforts to retain her attention, the younger Amicitia remained gleefully distracted. She had taken to freely dancing about rather than trying to learn seriously.

Both she and Gladio were obviously exasperated by their respective students, yet they continued with long-suffering patience.

"They're not particularly good at expressing themselves." Ignis disclosed with a hint of humor. With a shake of his head he returned his attention to his own pupil.

The prince finally looked ready to continue with the lesson, now reassured that Aracelis wasn't truly upset with him. Taking into account the poor relationship between Gladio and the younger boy, he could see why the gruff older teen would have issues teaching Noctis.

If Aracelis was truly upset with _you _she could have pushed for _Gladio _as your dancing teacher instead, Ignis noted to himself darkly. She wouldn't have assigned him the one person she insisted could serve as the prince's _perfect_ royal adviser. If only Noctis was savvy to her many actions indicating a strong obligation to look out for his best interest.

Though more likely… The quiet teen's gaze drifted back to the overburdened Amicitia. It wouldn't be a surprise if her actions were actually for his sake…

Ignis concentrated on teaching the prince the appropriate steps to each dance, not allowing his thoughts to delve further into the relationship between Aracelis and Gladio. While not the most enthused student, Noctis could be surprisingly determined when properly motivated.

"Man… I kind of want to go to this party now." A cheeky grin crossed the blond's face as he playfully knocked his shoulder against Noctis during a water break. "If only to get a shot of you messing up and stepping on Princess Lunafreya."

"Shut up." The grumpy prince muttered dryly, swatting him away, clearly more upset by the prospect of Prompto's absence than the boy's teasing behavior.

"I'd probably stick out like a sore thumb around all the nobility anyway," laughed the blond self-deprecatingly.

"Not necessarily," interjected Aracelis. "The majority of Crownsguard are not part of nobility and they're attending. You could always apply and join if you want your own invite in the future."

"Yeah, but that's Crownsguard," dismissed Prompto with a wave. "You have to be like Gladio to—"

At the last second, the blond hastily slapped a hand over his mouth. A visible twitch appeared at the corner of Aracelis' eye. Whatever had happened, it was clear none of them were ready to talk about it. At the threat of the impending morose about to befall the group, Ignis did his best to muster enough courage to interject.

"If you're interested, you can attend as my plus one," offered Ignis to preemptively break the growing tension. All eyes were suddenly on him and belatedly he quickly wondered if he should have kept his silence.

"Seriously?" the freckle-faced boy's eyes lit up hopefully. "I mean… is that okay? Are they going to give you trouble for it? I mean… you're nobility right?"

"Like Aracelis noted, Crownsguard will also be in attendance. Not everyone will be of nobility," reasoned Ignis. "As long as you don't cause any trouble, attending as my friend shouldn't be a problem."

If he thought Prompto's eyes were bright before, they were practically glistening now. The next thing he knew, the blond tackled him with a grateful hug—nearly bowling him to the ground had he been relaxed.

"Thank you!" shouted Prompto gratefully. "_Igster_ you're seriously the best!"

Ignis froze at the nickname.

Logically, he knows the blond is clueless to his secret racing life. Even so, he found it difficult not to react to the nickname. It was strange to hear someone outside of that part of his life using it. Albeit, the rest of the community referred to him as _'Iggy'_ and the only person to really use that nickname with him was Claire.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Aracelis discreetly turning away with a hand over her mouth. There was no doubt she was amused by the use of his nickname out of its normal context. His only solace was their mutual agreement in secrecy. However, the small relief he had was immediately forgotten when it suddenly dawned on him that Claire must also be attending the ball.

Maybe he could have found a way to stay home that day, but it was far too late now. Ignis barely managed a weak smile so as not to offend the younger boy tightly hugging him. "You're... welcome."


	11. UO11: The Ball

Author's Notes: Happy Belated New Year! Please have "**Cashmere**"- by BADBADNOTGOOD, Valse di Fantastica (Piano Collection) and Somnus playing for full effect of the chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Eleven: The Ball**

_Caelum Via Hotel & Resorts_

Black marble, golden trims and crystal chandeliers, Prompto found himself snapping photos at everything that caught his eye as he went about the open rooftop venue. Shortly after King Regis' address to the Tenebraen guests, the blond had broken away from Ignis to seek Noctis.

In his search for the wayward prince, Prompto carefully weaved through the mingling party-goers, ascending the glass stairs spiraling around an extravagant crystal blue aquarium. He paused in wonder, marveling at the serpent-like marine life enveloped in silver-quality scales, before discerning his own reflection staring back at him.

Though the Argentums partake in black-tie charity events, Prompto personally has never attended such affairs. Donned in a borrowed three-piece suit, the blond was elated in having lost enough weight that he could attractively fit into one of the prince's spares. Otherwise, his entire wardrobe was woefully unprepared. Rejoicing in his good fortune, nothing could deter his mood tonight.

Once on the upper terrace he expected to continue his search with a better vantage point. He didn't anticipate actually finding Prince Noctis, gazing up into the starry night sky with the moon high above.

"Hey Noct—" Prompto began, but found his breath caught in surprise when he noticed a young woman adorned in an elegant silver-white dress, slowly approaching his friend.

Her back straight and hands clasped modestly together, a gentle smile graced the young woman's lips as she stopped before him. With poise befitting her title, Princess Lunafreya greeted Prince Noctis. Previously, the prince stood relaxed, back slouched and arms crossed. Abruptly, he straightened his posture and dropped his arms to his sides at her presence. His face flushed red as he awkwardly returned her greeting. In turn, the princess curled a hand against her lips, hiding a giggle.

Prompto has spent enough time with Noctis to know that the Tenebraen princess had just caught him daydreaming. His friend had a habit of staring off into space, completely oblivious to his surroundings. Fortunately, Noctis' embarrassment alleviated quickly as Lunafreya moved on to engaging him in conversation. From where he stood, Prompto couldn't hear the words shared between the two.

Between Lunafreya's luminescent beauty and Noctis' quiet enigmatic charm, the pair made quite a sight against the backdrop of the moonlit night. Not wanting to become a third-wheel, Prompto snuck a snapshot before retreating. In glee, he wondered what shade of red Noctis' face will turn when he teases him with this photo, hopefully sometime in the near future. An impish smile crossed his face as the blond headed back down with the intention of exploring.

"Oh, _Sir Cor_!" A playful sing-song call rang through the air, disturbing everyone in attendance.

Prompto nearly tripped down the stairs at the sound of the familiar voice. "What is she doing here?" He never would have guessed that the girl responsible for his near death experience was also someone of nobility. His eyes darted over the crowd in search of the dark-haired girl.

True enough he spotted her, shrouded in an asymmetrical black-feathered dress. With an eerie wraithlike visage, she chased after the disgruntled Marshal, a single black wing from her dress trailing behind her. His face paled and hands went clammy at the sight of her. Quickly, he hurried down the steps, terrified of being drawn in by the older girl. He couldn't afford getting into any trouble tonight. Prompto swerved around the bystanders, keeping an eye on her whereabouts while attempting to make his way back to Ignis.

In his hurry to get away, the freckled-faced boy crashed into one of the many distinguished guests in attendance. At the unexpected jostling, the older gentleman stumbled forward spilling champagne from his glass. His companion swiftly reached out to steady him, preventing the man from completely toppling over. Prompto, mortified at his own clumsiness, hastily took a step back only to bump into the chatty red-headed teen keeping both men company.

"—And then that's wh—Whoa!" The rambling young man steadied Prompto by the shoulders before they could both fall over. "Easy there!"

"I am… _so_ sorry!" Prompto apologized profusely to the trio of gentlemen. "I… I should have watched where I was going! I'm—"

"—Please, think nothing of it. After all, accidents happen," dismissed the chagrined older man with smooth courtesy. He righted his fine clothes and raised the empty glass to a passing waiter for a refill, turning a cold shoulder to the boy's presence entirely.

With all his might, Prompto fought back a pained expression. Though the gentleman was outwardly civil, the blond detected the disdain in his words. Despite himself, regret crept its way into his previous impenetrable excitement. Maybe… he really shouldn't have come tonight.

"Are you alright?" A cavalier snicker snapped Prompto from the threat of a dwarfing bout of self-consciousness. "What? Were you running away from _a daemon_ or something?" the older teen asked him teasingly. Leaving no room for answers, he unfurled a hand in an ostensibly friendly gesture before introducing himself. "The name's Marcus Flavius! And the man you _so_ _clumsily_ bumped into _just so_ happens to be _my father_, Lord Enite Flavius. I can't say that I've seen you at Valetis Academy, or at any of these events before. So, who are you?"

"Oh...uh…" Prompto sheepishly took the older teen's offered hand. "I'm Prompto Argentum… I… came with Ignis," He answered, entirely unsure of himself.

"Ignis?" Marcus cocked his head in surprise. He drew his hand back and glanced in question at the third gentleman standing silently in their presence. "As in—Scientia?"

"Yeah," replied Prompto apprehensively, following his line of sight to the standoffish bespectacled man. "…He invited me," the blonde timidly confessed.

"Now _that's_ interesting! Count Scientia, were you _aware_ that your nephew brought a friend?" the red-headed boy deviously inquired.

"I wasn't aware that Ignis _had_… a _friend_," the count answered him flatly, before dismissing it altogether with a shrug.

Prompto paled at Count Sceintia's words. Ignis assured him that his non-nobility wouldn't be an issue, but what if he only said that in a simple act of kindness? Could this mishap reflect poorly on Ignis' personal life?

"I see. Prompto _Argentum_, was it?" The Flavius patriarch readdressed him flippantly. A waiter silently replaced his empty glass for a new one as he continued to speak. "You do seem rather flustered. Why is that?" He asked, regarding the blond's prolonged presence with scrutiny. "Perhaps you _ran into_ young Lady Auburn? For a girl of _noble _upbringing, she really can make quite a_ nuisance_ of herself," he remarked with a languid sigh, protectively tracing the brim of his replaced expensive hat.

"_Lady Auburn?_" Prompto wondered. Was the man referring to his assailant?

"Wouldn't you agree, Pyralis?" drawled the man before sipping his drink.

"Half the ballroom must've heard her chasing after the Marshall just a moment ago," Pyralis Scientia answered with a roll of recognizable sage green eyes.

Eyes a shade of green so strikingly similar to his nephew Ignis, Prompto had to fight off the compulsion to stare. Belatedly, the blond wondered if Ignis' parents were also in attendance. Not that the older teen was one to speak much about himself, but he's never once mentioned his family.

If Ignis is here accompanied only by his uncle, then maybe...

"Wait, Claire's here?" Marcus realized gleefully, a smile glowing on his face. "I didn't know she was allowed to attend this year," he noted to himself in delighted anticipation. His eyes widened, completely blinded by the wild potential. "Not after what happened last time," he exclaimed eagerly.

"…Last…time?" repeated Prompto, confused and alarmed.

"Best not to associate with the likes of her," Pyralis avowed in stark contrast, abruptly ending the possibility of the conversation.

The count gave the red-haired teen a pointed look, but Marcus appeared undeterred by the stern man. Lord Flavius remained a quiet spectator, making no move to stop his son from aggravating the count as he lazily sipped from his glass.

"Right… I uh…" Prompto began quietly, ducking his head down shyly. "…I should probably get back to Ignis. P-Please excuse me," he murmured, escaping the intensity of their undivided attention.

Safely away from them, Prompto let out a sigh of relief. He can't begin to imagine what this must be like for Noctis on a regular basis. The blond proceeded to carefully weave through the mingling attendees in search for Ignis, this time more cautious of his surroundings. To his good fortune, the older teen was not hard to find. He stood at the edge of the dance floor with Iris by his side.

"Hey Prompto!" Iris waved excitedly at him when she spotted him approaching. The girl was dressed up in an adorable black gown accented by layers of translucent white lace.

"Mind your manners Iris," chided Ignis gently. "A lady of your stature does not shout their greetings across the room."

Prompto blinked as he glanced at the older teen. On the surface, the cut and rule-abiding teen shared many similarities with his uncle in demeanor and appearance. Both Scientia men shared the same sandy blond hair and more strikingly, a captivating shade of green eyes hidden behind half-framed glasses. The younger Scientia stood to be rather fetching in his finely made suit, tailored and fitted perfectly to his handsome measurements.

"Do try to behave yourself until Aracelis returns from the powder room," sighed Ignis. He began absently adjusting the silver cuffs of his sleeves as he anxiously looked about for the aforementioned girl.

Iris giggled sheepishly in response, not at all apologetic for her impolite behavior.

Prompto smiled at them, stifling a giggle of his own. Despite the superficial similarities between them, unlike his stone cold uncle, Ignis expressed a gentle sort of patience towards those with inexperience and lack of propriety.

"...Enjoying the party, Prompto?" Ignis remarked quizzically, an eyebrow cocked and his tone impassive.

"Uh—Yeah!" The blond blinked at the older teen's sudden inquiry, snapping out of his train of thought. "Everything's great. I actually ran into your uncle earlier," Prompto began, watching the teen carefully. "…He seems like a swell guy." Prompto smiled and chuckled nervously. Ignis stared at him silently, then half smiled in response.

"Yes, that's a word for him." Ignis noted flatly.

"I was introduced to him as Count Scientia. Does that mean…" Prompto began, sheepishly scratching at his cheek. "...Is your father the count as well?"

With a deep breath, Ignis answered his suspicions. "No, there is only one Count Scientia."

Prompto fell silent, digesting the older teen's words. As lonely as it was for his parents to constantly disappear for charity events, he can scarcely imagine what it would feel like to lose them. Raising his gaze to meet Ignis', he noted the other observing him with silent curiosity. His hands fidgeted at the attention, but a shy smile eventually stretched across Prompto's face. The blond clapped a reassuring hand on the other teen's shoulder. Ignis simply stared, surprised by the contact at first, but returned the gesture with a soft smile.

"Prompto!" Iris interrupted in her usual childish glee. "You gotta try this, it's _really good_!" She hastily dropped a small tart-like pastry sprinkled with a generous amount of powdered sugar into his hand.

Surprised by the sudden offer of food and not wanting to dirty Noctis' suit, Prompto carefully popped the whole thing into his mouth to avoid making a mess.

"Prompto, don't—" Ignis started to chastise him for scarfing the pastry in a single bite. However, before he could even finish speaking, the smaller girl swiftly ingested two of the very same pastries, outdoing Prompto. "Iris…" The bespectacled teen sighed as he shook his head. The girl could barely chew around her sizable mouthful.

"Wha?" The girl held her hands over her mouth in an attempt to keep the crumbs from spilling out. "Awie's doin' it!" She pointed a finger across the dance floor.

True to her words, Aracelis had plucked one of the pastries from the waiter's offered tray and popped the entire edible into her mouth. She was mindful of the powdered sugar as she tapped her fingers clean. The sight alone was almost enough to force Prompto to snort in laughter. Then he took notice of the rest of the older girl.

The blond clumsily swallowed his pastry and his eyes widened in surprise. Long sleeves with an embroidered modest front, the sage green evening dress hugged tastefully to the older girl's lithe frame, only to reveal a scandalous dip to the backdrop of her dress. To his greater surprise, Aracelis was also smiling… in a way he's never seen before. Not wanting to lose such a rare sight, he hastily pulled up his camera, capturing the moment.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen Arie smile like that. She must really like it," commented Iris. She clung to his arm to peek in on his photo. "I wonder if Auntie Selene can make this. Then maybe we can ask her to whenever Arie gets angry at us and then she'll forget that we made her angry!"

"She would need to know the recipe or actually try the dessert before she could recreate it," noted Ignis.

"Aw…" sulked Iris, dejectedly.

Prompto patted her shoulder in comfort. Her idea was a bit self-serving, but it wasn't a bad one, he noted in amusement. Seeing how the younger Amicitia so frequently oversteps herself in excitement, he could see why it would be a good idea to use this as a means to pacify Aracelis.

"...It's not completely impossible," murmured Ignis after a moment. "I dare say, I could probably recreate this with some work."

"Really?" Iris perked up, her eyes shined with delight before she bounced for joy. "Woohoo!"

"Iris... volume," Ignis chided quietly, a soft fondness crept across his face as the younger girl did her best to contain her excitement.

Any tension Prompto carried from earlier melted away, comforted by the sight of the two. Ignis really was too kind.

"Who's that talking to Arie?" asked Iris with a gasp, her attention suddenly drawn away from Ignis and back to Aracelis, who has yet to return to their group.

* * *

When Aracelis first spotted the Memory Lane Pastry, a sense of uncanniness washed over her. For the longest time, the elusive pastry seemed improbable to come by. After all, she thought it unlikely for her to ever visit Tenebrae, much less be able to try what was an impossibility from her last life. The dessert required a fictional fruit, ulwaat berries, but here… it was a tangible thing. A sudden giddiness filled her at the strange opportunity to try something fans could only dream of in her previous existence.

Childish fanaticism aside, she happily plucked one off the offered tray and plopped the whole treat into her mouth. Immediately, the powdered sugar on the surface melted on her tongue. As she chewed, a cakiness complemented by the mild sweetness of berries wrapped around a flaky crust filled her mouth. There was something strikingly unique about the dessert that could never be compared to anything in her last life.

Tapping her fingers clean of the residue powdered sugar, she found her gaze drawn to the upper floor where Noctis and Lunafreya conversed, exchanging shy smiles and private words.

This first encounter between the star-crossed lovers bore an eerie resemblance to the one conceptualized by the game trailers. The infamous meeting that never was between Noctis and the retconned heroine, Stella. She could only hope that their conversation was of a lighter nature, rather than the original ominous discussion of death…

Speaking of death, Aracelis tilted her chin up and focused her attention on the unsettling portrait residing inside the giant aquarium centerpiece to the venue. The painting of the Goddess Etros. She recalled the painting making an appearance during the events of Kingsglaive prior to Insomnia's fall. In her world, it never amounted to anything beyond an easter egg for the fans following the game's production from the start.

The painting was originally meant to tie in Noctis to the existing world of Final Fantasy XIII, thus it had no reason to exist here in Eos. This was an inconsistency that existed even in her old world. She had much more important things vying for her attention, yet moments like this left her shaken and temporarily unbalanced.

Still, Aracelis was quite relieved that the two had finally met. Much like a game of chess, one cannot start without first acquiring all the pieces. With the _king and queen_ on the board at long last, she could finally breathe easy. All that remained was to maneuver the pieces into the rightful places. Of course, her job was far from done, but for the first time in months, Aracelis felt her mind at rest.

"Good evening," greeted a Tenebraen-accented voice.

Aracelis drew her attention away from the painting and glanced at the platinum blond man suddenly in her presence. For a moment the brunette was at a loss to who this stranger was, as his face was not immediately familiar to her. The distinctive white coat he wore on the other hand was notably easier to recognize.

"Good evening Prince Ravus." Aracelis returned the greeting with a polite dip of her head.

Like everything else in this world, the circumstance of his upbringing must have differed greatly from her expectations. The man who was standing before her was not a tragic prince, driven by grief at the loss of his mother. Still, the Tenebraen royal never gave off indication as the sort to casually attend events such as this one.

Aracelis met his piercing gaze evenly before she continued speaking, "I hope you're enjoying the party."

"Quite, the city of Insomnia is a lovely sight to behold," noted the man before curtly directing the conversation. "And in reference to this venue, I must note that the views tonight are stunning. Evidently, you are well aware of my name and title. Yet I'm afraid that I'm unfamiliar with yours. May I have your name?"

"Aracelis of the Hester family," replied the brunette in a courtly manner. "I humbly serve the House Amicitia."

"You must be a highly regarded vassal of the King's Shield then," stated Ravus cooly, keeping his eyes on her.

"Surely not," she replied. "In truth, I'm simply an over-glorified escort for the evening."

Part of Aracelis' training in preparation to take over as the Amicitia's chamberlain was learning the subtle nuances in court dialogue. As a prince, she had no doubt Ravus received such lessons as well. Despite this fact, she must find out what he was doing here.

"Of course, you are in attendance to celebrate your illustrious sister Princess Lunafreya, correct?"

"You are correct," confirmed Ravus. "Lunafreya has done well to lead Tenebrae in our absence, whereas I chose to serve at my mother's side as her guard. It is in part on my sister's eager insistence, and the convenience that our duties brought us to Lucis that affords me my presence."

His revelation brought Aracelis' mind to a staggering halt. While she was aware that the queen of Tenebrae still lives, she hadn't realized the full extent of what her survival entailed. Ravus was not part of Niflheim's military ranks. Instead of serving as their commander, he guarded the Oracle acting almost as his mother's shield. This meant it was unlikely for him to trigger the events of Insomnia's fall during the Kingsglaive betrayal.

"Speaking of my sister, I couldn't help but notice your rather apprehensive gaze upon her…" Ravus continued smoothly. "Perhaps you are harboring an intention for her?"

Aracelis stilled, her eyes drifted to his piercing steel-blue ones. Of the people who could have taken notice of her intrusive machinations, Ravus was likely one of the more dangerous individuals to do so. For events to unfold correctly Lunafreya must die in accordance to her role. Her brother does not take kindly to the tragedy...

"I'm merely a concerned subject of Prince Noctis," replied Aracelis succinctly, careful to remain factual under his gaze. "The prince is really not one for company. It's of great comfort for me to see him converse so easily with Princess Lunafreya."

"For a subject, you speak as though you're close to the prince," commented Ravus, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm afraid I haven't had a chance to catch your title."

"My apologies, your highness," Aracelis dipped her head, disguising her growing tension. "It must have slipped my mind. I am to be the next chamberlain for the Amicitias and I'm serving as Lady Amicitia's chaperone for the evening."

"Chaperone?" repeated the prince. "And where is—"

"Arie!" Iris interrupted the two in excitement.

At the sight of her charge's bright smile, Aracelis' stiff posture relaxed. The exuberant girl marched towards them as Ignis did his best to keep them walking at an even pace. With energetic steps, her powerful stride merely dragged him along.

"Prince Ravus this is—" Aracelis began, but was promptly interrupted by the younger girl.

"You're a prince?" chirped the Amicitia girl in awe as she pulled her hand away from Ignis' hold and moved onto clinging the alarmed prince's arm. "Wow! You're nothing like Noct! You're so much cooler, like Arie!"

Ravus stilled at the unexpected compliment. His gaze drifted from Aracelis to the younger girl's grip on his arm. It didn't take long for him to discern Iris' identity shortly after. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady Amicitia."

"Eugh, Lady Amicitia sounds so weird." The little girl scrunched up her face in distaste before perking up once more. "Just call me Iris!"

Aracelis fought back a smile at the Tenebraen prince's obvious loss as to how to deal with Iris. The energetic girl could be a bit much for someone unused to her charms.

"Are you good at dancing? You must be good at dancing right? Let's go dancing!" Iris fired away, not giving Ravus a chance to even refute her. The prince looked utterly confounded as she dragged him off towards the dance floor.

"Seems like Iris has absconded with your prince," noted Ignis in good humor as they watched Ravus getting helplessly pulled to the dance floor by the excitable little girl.

"She may do as she wishes. Prince Ravus is hardly _our _prince." Aracelis scoffs lightly as Iris steps on the foreign prince's foot at the start of their dance. "You and I both know his highness would rather spend time at the arcades with Prompto. He's not one for court life."

"Indeed." The quiet teen agreed in amusement before glancing to her conspiratorially. "Since no prince interests you, might I, a lowly title-less classmate, request a dance?"

"Lowly?" Aracelis repeated, a slight chuckle escaped her lips by his unexpected modesty. "You're next in line for a countship."

"Next in line, not yet a count," corrected Ignis as he offers his hand in a playful yet reserved manner. "Shall we?"

A wry grin tugged at Aracelis' lips as she curtsied and reached out to accept his invitation. Having danced with Ignis once before, she needn't worry about being unexpectedly thrown into the air. As Ignis led her weaving about the other dancers in long sweeping steps, Aracelis recognized the familiar melody of the somber song playing, "Somnus".

While this was hardly the first time she's heard it in this life, Aracelis found herself drawing comparisons between now and the events in her memories. Between the venue, the guests and the choice in music, the ball bore chilling parallel to the one meant to take place the night before Insomnia's fall. Though many things differed from what she remembered, there were plenty more that reassured her of an eventuality rather than a possibility.

A crack snapped through the air followed by a series of sharp whistles. Many of the other attendees turned their gaze high above. Iris was among those that pointed excitedly to the sky, as she tugged at Prince Ravus's arm insisting he follow her gaze. Prompto, who had begun snapping pictures, pulled his gaze away from his viewfinder in anticipation. Count Scientia and Lord Flavius stared up at the sky expectantly, both ignoring the relentless chatter of the oblivious young man in their company.

Elsewhere on the upper balcony overlooking the dance floor, Prince Noctis leaned against the railing, enjoying the view in the peaceful company of Princess Lunafreya. Below them stood countless members of Kingsglaive. Their ranks remained still and stoic amongst all the spectacle, standing guard as they kept their gaze steadily focused on the various attendees.

The only one that seemed to disregard everything and everyone was Lady Claire. She long gave up on her hunt for the evening and appeared mildly despondent at having lost sight of her quarry, Cor. As she floated about aimlessly, she paused at the sight of Ignis dancing with Aracelis. Fixing a pensive gaze on the pair, an odd smirk graced her lips.

Perfectly unaware of being under her surveillance, Aracelis and Ignis smiled freely as they danced together. In similar fashion to their first dance, Ignis held out his arm for Aracelis to twirl underneath. Just as she did so, for a fleeting moment, the dark of the night sky was decorated with a luminous display of bright and changing colors.

_~End of Arc One~_


	12. UO12: Episode Nyx

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Twelve: Episode Nyx**

Exhausted and covered in a layer of sweat and grime from fighting countless magitek soldiers and Niflheim dropships, Nyx Ulric was finally back behind city walls. After risking life and limb to impede the wide advancement of the Niflheim Empire, Nyx found himself greeted to accolades befitting a brave and selfless champion of Lucis.

A flip of a light switch illuminated a sad and dingy studio apartment, the place he called home within the dense slums of Insomnia. Luxuries included the faulty shower that too quickly goes from hot to lukewarm, a squeaky bed with a loose spring and hot grungy street food sold nearby by fellow immigrant vendors.

Hardly better than the bland ration bars they're fed while out on the field. At least it was warm and savory, bearing mild resemblance to the nostalgic flavors from his native homeland, Galahd. It was never quite enough for _good-ole_ Lib and his _absurdly discerning_ taste buds…

Understandably, many of his brethren Kingsglaive were displeased by the _special_ _treatment_ they were subjected to within the walled city. Even so, Nyx took to enjoying what little luxuries he could, given their hapless circumstances.

Falling under the stupor that can only be experienced amid the comforts of a hot shower, fresh memories of the previous battles surfaced to his mind. They just spent months on end deployed in the region of Duscae defending the territory, having lost the region of Cleigne some years ago. Scorched earth and battle cries filled the air as Kingsglaive units charged against the invading forces.

Those who favored the warpstrike tossed their weapons at their enemies readily, leaving a trail of ethereal blue light in their wake as they went attacking one enemy to the next. The more cautious glaives followed not far behind, providing shields of magic and aid for their more reckless compatriots.

Up on the highgrounds, glaives with the highest magical aptitude united as one, pooling their magic together to call upon the very elements of nature to their aid. At their behest, dark clouds filled the skies and thunder rumbled threateningly above. Lightning strikes ripped into the metallic dropships looming overhead, destroying them before Niflheim could unleash hordes of magitek soldiers into the fray.

This most recent bout against the empire ended with Niflheim's retreat, however it was hardly enough to call for celebration. It was only a matter of time before they're deployed back to the frontlines… Each time returning in fewer numbers than the last…

When he made his way towards the training grounds within the Citadel the following morning, Nyx expected everything to be as they left it, rundown and disregarded like the rest of Kingsglaive. Instead, he was met with scaffolding and construction work around the unused portion of the courtyard.

"I'm telling you, this shit is going to come out of our paychecks." Luche decried with a scowl and arms crossed over his chest.

The brazen young man stood at the center of a commotion, ranting and raving like someone or something had crossed him.

"Quit making such a big deal out of it." Among them, Libertus stood alone in attempting to settle the glaive down. Some nodded along and seconded in agreement while others, like Crowe only rolled their eyes at the affronted young man. With a groan, Libertus continued trying to settle down the irritated glaives. "For all you know, maybe they found some extra budget somewhere."

"Budget for what?" Nyx couldn't help but ask as he made his way over, being out of the loop to the full conversation.

"This shit!" Luche waved a dismissive hand over the new construction in a huff. "How long have they left us with this _craphole_ of a training area? Think about it, if they cared enough, they would've found the budget to do it ages ago."

Eyebrows raised Nyx looked about, wondering what else changed in his absence. Apart from the unexpected construction, there were also _minor additions_ such as a proper weapon storage unit, a couple of nifty benches and even fancy little drinking fountains.

Some distance away from them Gladio could be heard by all, barking out instructions to the newest batch of young Kingsglaive trainees.

_Minor additions_ indeed, Nyx noted to himself with an exasperated sigh. With a teasing glint in her eye, Crowe shot him a knowing smirk. After all, it was his bright idea to recruit the former shield. Undoubtedly, the intensity of the kid's presence took everyone some getting used to, and he was an _outsider_ amongst them no less. The units of Kingsglaive consisted mostly of displaced immigrants from the outer territories, whereas the Amicitia teen was the son of nobility, native to the city of Insomnia.

However, none of that truly mattered to Nyx when he urged his mentor, the Captain of Kingsglaive to afford the exception. While Gladio could be sort of '_rough around the edges'_ at times, he _knew_ an _upfront _guy when he _saw_ one… And, turns out the kid was genuinely good at his job. A natural _insufferable_ drill sergeant, Nyx noted to his own amusement.

Speaking of _outsiders_, Nyx also _knew_ when a man was trying hard _not to be seen._ Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the Marshal of the Crownsguard _of all people_, skulking about the premises. The presence of Cor _The Immortal_ was _interesting_ to say the least, and far more alarming than any of the mysterious equipment strewn about the courtyard.

"Marshal," Nyx addressed the man, a cheeky grin spread across his face as he began to approach the intruder.

Upon being spotted, the surly man immediately began calculating his escape, taking a step to move away, but it was far too late to properly retreat. If he was nervous at all, Cor did impressively well at remaining stoic.

"Good morning," the glaive greeted jovially.

"…Good morning, Ulric." Cor returned, yet he remained guarded, blue eyes narrowed at the Galahdian.

"Fancy seeing you here in this part of the Citadel. You're a bit _far_ from the Crownsguard offices," noted the glaive casually. He smirked and cocked his head in Gladio's direction, who could still be heard barking orders far behind them. "…Looking for the kid?"

The Crownsguard Marshal measured the glaive with a quick look, taking a thoughtful moment before dismissing him with a simple _no_. With purpose, Cor walked right past him.

Nyx crossed his arms in annoyance, eyes lingering on the man's back as he walked off. "Well, if you care to know—," Nyx began, letting out an exasperated sigh, "—he's doing just fine by the way!" he bellowed after the retreating marshal. The Crownsguard pointedly ignored him as he continued on his way.

The Galahdian wandered back to the gathering of Kingsglaive, now catching the tail end of their previous conversation.

"There's no point bitching about it to us, Luche," reasoned Crowe. "Go talk to HR if you're that pissed about it!"

"Sage advice coming from someone like you." Nyx teased, cutting in.

"Shut up, Ulric." Crowe dismissed him.

_Bzz… Bzz…_

Luche looked to his pocket in confusion. Who might possibly be messaging him at this time? Sad fact was that everyone most glaives knew personally were most likely presently accounted for. Baffled, Luche pulled out his phone and quickly swiped it open to check the message. As he read through the words, his furrowed brows deepened into a scowl.

"Know what, Crowe. Maybe I will." Luche declared, a downcast look overtaking his face. "Apparently, I'm being summoned…" he announced, shoving his phone away. At his reveal, all eyes laid on Luche in surprise.

Despite Crowe's flippant suggestion, most glaives avoid dealing with human resources as often as they possibly could afford to. The Kingsglaive HR department was notoriously incompetent, misplacing most documents in an impossible mess of unorganized files and old, perhaps even _ancient_, mounds of paperwork. They were better off finding alternative ways to resolve such matters themselves.

Nyx frowned, watching the glaive cross the field on his way to the HR office. A sinking feeling filled his chest as it dawned on him that today was going to be full of surprises. Reluctantly, he decided to follow him. Although Nyx could be every manner of brash, brave and bold in his behavior, in actuality he was never a fan of surprises, the good kind or otherwise.

Much like Kingsglaive, their human resources office stood tucked away in a remote corner in the Citadel. Unless you were a glaive or an office employee, no one would realize it existed at all. With less than a handful of people running the department, stacks of unfiled paperwork often overran the cramped space in towering mountains. It came to no one's surprise whenever a paper avalanche befell the unfortunate staff.

Nyx was quick to spot what was different when he followed Luche into the stuffy, windowless office. Or rather, who was different. Baffling all on its own was the presence of Tredd, the cocky glaive idly standing by reception. However, this quickly became unsurprising taking circumstances into consideration.

Seated behind the reception desk was a young brunette girl he's never seen before. Smartly dressed with a face dusted in freckles, her cold discerning eyes glanced at them through a pair of sleek glasses. With a quick once-over, she rifled through the stack of stapled packets by her side.

"Luche Lazarus." The girl noted as she clipped the packet to a clipboard and handed it to him. "You're going to need to fill these correction forms, your original submission was done incorrectly."

"You're shitting me right?" scoffed Luche. "I have better things to do then—"

"Then what?" challenged the girl as she waved a hand towards the countless stacks of paper surrounding her. "If you somehow haven't noticed yet, I have plenty of other things I could be doing right now than dealing with your tantrum over incorrect paperwork."

"Burn," sniggered Tredd before Luche turned around to shoot his friend a death glare. Nyx raised a brow. Compared to human resource's usual scripted response, delivered in a lackluster zombie-like drone, this girl practically oozed spunk despite her prim and proper appearance.

"You can either correct your forms now or deal with your subsidies being suspended and _then_ come back to do it," continued the girl in a clipped tone. "Personally, I would rather _not_ have to deal with your subsidies being suspended _at all_. I'm trying to fix the problem _before_ it becomes an actual problem. Now fill out the correction forms or _get out_."

"You think just because you work in the office that you're better than me?" Luche snarled, slamming his hands on the counter.

"Luche, chill," Nyx interrupted, hooking an arm to pull the irate glaive away from the counter. "Girlie's just doing her job."

"_Girlie_ has a name." She retorted as she pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"Well then," continued Nyx with a cheeky grin. He slipped away from Luche and suavely rested his arms on the counter. "Care to share it with the rest of the class?"

"Care to stop impeding me from doing my job?" countered the girl in turn.

"Nyx," scowled Tredd. "Quit flirting with the jailbait, will you?"

"Oh please, you're one to talk." Nyx remarked with an incredulous scoff. "Why else are _you_ hanging around here?"

"That's a wild accusation, Ulric." Tredd snarled before clarifying. "I'm actually here to ask about all that new equipment in the courtyard."

"Aracelis," an unknown voice called out. In playfully literal observation, a walking tower of paper stepped out from the archive room. "Do you have a moment?" A quiet-looking young man peered out from behind the tall stack he was carrying, revealing a pair of bespectacled green eyes. "I can't seem to find—"

Luche's eyes practically bulged in recognition. "IGGY?"

_Iggy _became quite frazzled by Luche's exclamation. Lips pressed thin, the shy young man tried his best not to react to the glaive's excitement. His face however, betrayed him as it slowly flushed red at the attention.

"I… don't believe I know who this _Iggy_ you're referring to is," stated the young man as calmly as he could muster.

However, his attempts to deny any connection Luche made were thwarted by Aracelis, who turned away with a hand over her mouth, failing to hide her growing amusement at the woeful act. The teen carried himself in the same proprietary manner as the stringent girl. However _Iggy_ seemed shyer, and frazzled much more easily.

"My name is Ignis." The young man awkwardly stated. Nyx couldn't help but smile at the odd pair.

"Holy… shit! It is you!" A gleeful smile crossed Luche's once disgruntled face.

"If you want to talk to Ignis about his extracurricular activities, it will have to be after office hours," noted Aracelis with a quick clear of her throat to get rid of any lingering laughter in her voice. Her face suddenly dropped, all hints of previous humor now completely gone. "Now, _get out_. Do not come back without your forms in proper order."

* * *

"Who does she think she is, anyway?" Luche griped, walking alongside Tredd with Nyx following close behind them. "I bet she thinks she could talk to us like that just because she's a Crown City girl."

"Nah," the older glaive amended. "Trust me guys. I know the difference. Wanna know what I think?" Although met with resounding silence and a pair of rolling eyes, Nyx pressed on anyway. "I think she's actually trying her best to do her job. I'm sure she's the one responsible for all that new equipment. Who knows. Maybe with her around things may actually change for the better around here."

"…You're just a hopeless optimist, Nyx." Tredd dismissed under his breath. With seemingly nothing left to say, the three glaives headed back to the courtyard in a wordless stride. While Nyx briefly contemplated asking them to explain the whole 'Iggy' thing, a curious sight halted his step, silently parting him from the group.

A little girl, maybe no older than ten years of age wandered about the crossing corridors of the Citadel. Brows furrowed, she looked left and right as she went. Concerned that the child might be lost, Nyx made his way towards her, remaining careful as to not spook her away. The Citadel was not a safe place for children, especially without a chaperone.

"You lost there kiddo?" Nyx called out to her.

The dark-haired little girl looked up in surprise, but showed no signs of being wary of his presence. On the contrary, she seemed happy to see him and decidedly ran up to approach him.

"You're Kingsglaive right?" chirped the girl brightly. "Maybe you can help me! I'm looking for someone."

"Oh?" noted Nyx indulgently as he knelt down to her eye-level. He held a smile on his face although he was mildly surprised that the child exhibited no signs of being wary. "Who are you looking for kiddo?"

"My big brother, Gladiolus!"

"...Gladio's your brother?" Nyx blinked in surprise.

The girl hummed in confirmation, beaming with pride. Waving her small hands about in excitement, she elaborated. "Noct said he's with Kingsglaive now, so I wanted to come over and say hi!"

While he knew nothing of Gladio's _home life_, Nyx hadn't expected the _gruff and buff_ teen to have such an endearing little sister. The girl was practically beaming like a ray of sunshine compared to her older brother, the two Amicitia siblings couldn't be more different from one another.

"Iris!" Cried a breathy voice, filled with relief. "There you are…"

From around the corridor appeared a scruffy-haired teen boy, clad entirely in black attire. Chest heavy with breathing the teen was stooped over, palms steadied on bent knees. Lifting his head with notable effort, long dark bangs swept aside better revealing his face. It took a moment for Nyx to readily identify the unassuming teen as the Lucian Prince, Noctis.

"Hi Noct!" Iris chirped. "Guess what? The nice Kingsglaive said he'll help me find Gladdy!" she declared in glee, oblivious to the worry she caused. Judging by his condition, the prince must have been frantically searching the entire perimeter of the Citadel for her.

Jogging briskly towards them with a wry chuckle, remarkably the prince didn't appear the slightest bit angry at the girl for being so difficult to find. If anything, he only expressed patience.

"Iris." The prince exhaled once more, relieved to be standing beside the formerly missing girl. "...Your brother is probably busy. If you drop in on him now, he might get in trouble." Noctis explained, his steady tone masking a near desperate plea.

"Awww," the little girl whined. "...But I wanted to say hi!" Her voice was dripping with near heart-wrenching sadness.

An amused grin crossed Nyx's lips at witnessing the royal prince struggle to reign in a small child.

"...You know Iris," the glaive helpfully cut in. "...I think I saw Gladio training with some new recruits… so he really won't be able to talk with you if you go to him right now."

The prince glanced at Nyx in surprise, a thankful expression crossing his face before he returned his attention to the little girl once more. "You don't want him to get in trouble right?

"...No." The child pouted, kicking the tip of her shoe on the ground morosely.

"How about we try again later after training?" Noctis offered, before he knelt down and planted a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Maybe he'll be free then?"

"...Okay…" she finally yielded, albeit with much reluctance.

"Come on." Noctis offered his hand to her.

The Crown Prince and a battle-hardened member of Kingsglaive, both kneeling to appease the whims of a little girl. Covertly, an alleviated glance was exchanged between them. What an absurd picture they painted.

"Come on, we better get going…" Prince Noctis offered his hand to Iris after sluggishly standing upright again.

"We'll be back!" Iris declared with certainty, her small hand gripping tightly onto the prince's longer fingers. "You'll help us find my brother later right?"

A rugged smile tugged at the glaive's lips. He stood from where he knelt and offered the girl a playful two-finger salute. "Sure kiddo. I'll even let Gladio know you stopped by."

Pleased by the answer, Iris shot the prince a cheeky grin at her success. Noctis sighed in exasperated fondness before facing Nyx with a hapless shrug and a half-grin of his own.

In truth, the unpretentious teenager wasn't _at all_ how Nyx previously envisaged the Crown Prince of Lucis.

Outside the Citadel, the commonwealth contended the young man had no significant faults to speak of. Noctis was to become their future monarch after all. For his eventual subjects to espouse otherwise would only stoke further civil unrest. Despite the current public divide towards the reigning Lucian King, the prince remained a highly regarded figure, beloved and supported throughout the court and kingdom.

Behind the walls of the Citadel however, whispers within the court cast Noctis in a more _nuanced_ light.

As if _out of the blue,_ the frequent strife between the prince and his shield suffered an unbidden eruption of court intrigue. Gradually, it snowballed into a hot subject of gossip, circulating throughout the Citadel. Far reaching _such as it was_, it pervaded even the segregated corner afforded to Kingsglaive.

"I see you've found Iris." Nyx froze at the sound of the Marshal's low baritone voice.

Cor's eyes fell on the young pair before his steely gaze promptly zeroed in on the glaive with them. With a resonant stride, the Marshal made his way towards the group.

Realization overcame Nyx and much to his immediate surprise, it turned out the Marshal actually wasn't looking for Gladio after all.

Nyx knew of the Amicitia teen in name only, well before making his incidental acquaintance some time ago. Although never afforded with details, he roughly surmised that the debacle between the prince and his shield marred the latter with notoriety, and that was even before the scandalous dismissal.

Consequently, Nyx reckoned the prince to be _something_ of a heedless noble. A petulant royal with no regard for his closest subjects, one whose negligent behavior led to severe punishment for those who served him. That's why the glaive didn't think twice about feeding the Crownsguard Marshal the _random_ lie about a '_cross-department exercise'_.

"Marshal." Without missing a beat, Nyx was quick to casually address the man leering at him. "Seems like we keep running into each other today…"

The man remained unbaited, therefore the emboldened glaive continued.

"These two seemed a little lost," Nyx explained with a sunny candor, waving a hand towards Iris and the prince. "So I thought I'd help them find their way.

Cor's discerning gaze narrowed on the glaive, as though challenging Nyx to only continue speaking if he dared.

"Don't you have something to do Ulric?"

Involuntarily, Nyx felt his shoulders hunch defensively.

"...Of course…" He blurted the clumsy answer, lips pressed into a thin smile.

Before taking leave with his newly appointed mentor, Noctis chanced a fleeting glance at Nyx before trailing after Cor. The teen's trepid gaze quickly averted as he murmured a barely audible thank you. Watching him go with Iris in hand, the Galahdian decided it best to reserve any foul judgements towards the wistful teenage prince and with his mind changed, Nyx began making his own way back.

He couldn't say for sure what was going on. Seemed to him that something big could be unfolding, just beneath the surface. Whatever it was, it would hardly matter to him either way. At the end of the day, the only thing Nyx looked forward to was knocking back a few beers with Lib and Crowe before bedtime.


	13. UO13: Your Worth

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Thirteen: Your Worth **

"Shit, shit, shit!" For the second time in his whole life, Gladiolus was late.

The thudding of heavy boots echoed across the long stretch of empty hall as Gladio rushed his way to the Kingsglaive training grounds. The thudding of his own heartbeat wrung much louder in his ears.

Cor had been gracious to waive his first tardiness due to the unforeseeable nature of those circumstances. He was careless enough to go out of uniform, so Crowe had mistaken him for a Kingsglaive recruit. As he assured his former marshal, Gladio made certain to always wear his Crownsguard uniform to the Citadel beforehand.

This time, he donned the Kingsglaive uniform instead, save for the military coat hanging over his arm. He bit back a curse under his breath. This time, he had no such excuses. He expected at least a tongue lashing and some sort of disciplinary action.

In Kingsglaive however…

"Look who's late." Crowe commented with a smug grin on her lips.

"I'm sorry," Gladio reflexively began. "I'll take respon—" he never finished as a series of groans and cheers rang through the courtyard.

"Damn it! Kid! I had one more day on the bet!"

"Ha! Pay up loser!"

All around, Gladio could see the older glaives heckling one another, laughing and bickering about some silly wager they've either won or lost.

"…You guys bet on my attendance." The Amicitia observed out loud, in flat disbelief at their foolishness. Accustomed to Crownsguard's stringent standards, Kingsglaive seemed much more lenient and relaxed in comparison.

He felt the tension in his body slowly alleviate. This absence of a strict formal structure resulted in high levels of inefficiency. Yet despite his better judgement, something about this more casual environment was almost… nice…

"That new girl in HR is such a _bitch_." Luche growled under his breath.

_ Almost…_

"You're only upset because she stopped you from _fanboying over Iggy_," sniggered Tredd in a teasing manner. "Takes a real loser to geek out over a kid and then get schooled by some _bitchy_ girl."

Gladio paused, catching the tail end of their conversation.

_Iggy and a bitchy girl?_

A sinking feeling landed in the pit of his stomach at the implication. That could never be right. It made no sense for either of them to be part of Kingsglaive. Even if Ignis somehow decided to fail all of his classes, his status as the Scientia heir would afford him the choice of anything better than Kingsglaive. While Aracelis may not have such caliber of status to her name, it'd be unlike her to make such an illogical decision. With a shake of his head, he dismissed the concern.

Mid-mornings found the concourse sparsely populated after the first rush hour. Gladio expected to be left to his own devices at the military divisions' antechamber, unbothered while other latecomers manually signed in.

"Gladiolus?"

At the sound of his name called, he glanced back to see another straggler. His brows furrowed when he recognized the obnoxious Flavius heir sauntering towards him. While they formally knew one another through various social galas and other political events, they seldom ever spoke casually. It was strange to see him around these parts of the Citadel.

A quick glance over and immediately, Gladio stilled at the familiar sight of the young man's suit and name pass. That uniform was only issued to Crownsguard staff members and professionals.

"Marcus." Gladio returned the greeting with an uncharacteristic inspired patience.

"Heard you got transferred into Kingsglaive…" The young man sounded almost apologetic in his words, yet in a way that came off as wholly feigned. "A shame for that to happen to you all because of the prince's negligence. Thought I should ask to see how you were doing."

"I… haven't had any problem with the transfer," replied the former shield carefully, unsure where the other was going with this conversation.

"Seriously?" blinked the cheeky redhead in wonder. "Hm, you are quite resilient I suppose." Marcus commended, before tapping a thoughtful fist to his chin. "…Or maybe," his eyes grew deviously bright at another possibility. "They did manage to make a difference after all!"

"What do you mean by that?" Gladio frowned at his words.

"Oh, just a little debate I had with _Aracelis_ a while back," Marcus began. "I told her Kingsglaive is such a _hot mess_ that it would require more than one person to fix up all of their underlying _problems—no offense,_" he quickly amended, holding up both hands in a silent plea. "But… I guess between her and Ignis, two people really can be enough to start fixing up the place!" His shoulders rose in a small flippant shrug. "Hm, who knew?"

"Ignis and… Aracelis are in…" Gladio slowly repeated in disbelief.

Without another word, he immediately stormed off in the direction leading to the Kingsglaive HR office. He made his way with quick powerful strides, scaring aside anyone who came across his path. No way, what that windbag said could never be true.

It made no sense for her to be there!

"What does it look like I'm doing here?" asserted Aracelis sarcastically, motioning a hand towards her mountains of paperwork, before nudging her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and returning her full attention to her workload.

Even as Gladio stepped into Kingsglaive's HR office, he still couldn't believe his eyes when he spotted his childhood friend seated at the front desk, flipping through files and typing away as if she was in her grandfather's office back in the Amicitia estates.

"Arie…" Gladio's whisper of disbelief quickly rose into fury. "Don't bullshit me! Do Selene or Alder even know you joined Kingsglaive?" He pressed on. "Or did you leave them out of the loop _too_?"

The small number of staff in the office garnered a peek from their little cubicles at the commotion. It's become something of a recent sport to watch Aracelis, their newest intern, rip into these hardened soldiers like schoolyard children. However, unlike all the other times this wasn't about paperwork, but clearly more personal matters.

"I joined HR," sneered Aracelis, trying to remain unfettered by his escalating bluster. "That hardly requires their attention. What is wrong with you? Why are you even getting so upset?"

Finding himself locked into a battle of wills, the Amicitia glared down at his oldest and dearest friend, his only friend if he actually cared to admit. "Because you followed me here! I didn't ask for you to do that!"

"Excuse me? What?" Aracelis blinked. She stood up from her seat, not to be cowed by him. "I don't care," she snapped, fed up with his unyielding temper. "What's wrong with _here_? This is my choice!"

At the escalating volume, Ignis stepped away from his duties and lingered at the entrance of the archives, arms hugging a binder's worth of paperwork. His brows furrowed with worry as he watched the heated exchange.

"You are better than this! You could have gone anywhere else!" Gladio threw up an open palm, gesturing at the pitiful tiny office. "Look around you!"

Aracelis waved her hand over her transfixed coworkers. "They have no problem with it!" She retorted, matching his posturing.

Gladio bared his gritted teeth, fighting back the urge to grab ahold of his friend and shake some sense into her. In place of that, he settled for slamming his hands at the counter. The ratty desk shuddered and trembled at his ire. "Because you're doing all their work for them!" he decried with a scoff. "You know that you could do so much more with your talents. Kingsglaive—"

"Shut up!" Aracelis sharply cut in, slamming her hands down on the desk in between them in a similar manner. "They're just as important as Crownsguard or any other department in the Citadel! There's nothing wrong with Kingsglaive! You're the _only_ one with the problem here! "

Gladio's amber eyes lit, glinting with pure fury. Even so, her dark eyes bore into his, unflinching in the face of his challenge.

With her hands still pressed on the desk between them, Aracelis leaned in closer and only she noticed that his face inched ever so slightly back. The Amicitia didn't blink, seeing full well that Aracelis would not back down from her stance. Everything in her manner conveyed that he would have to be the one to let this go.

"What part of _'I chose to be here'_ do you _not _understand?" She intoned to him with a slow grim emphasis.

Nails scraped against the aged desk, Gladio found himself clenching his hands into tight fists to restrain himself from further action. As furious as he was, he did not want to hurt her.

Instead, he hastily pulled away and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him as he went. At the resounding tremor, a nearby tower of paperwork came crashing down. An office staffer groaned in annoyance and they all began to pile everything back in place with sluggish effort.

The moment he was gone, Aracelis let out a loud breath and collapsed down in her seat. She folded her hands against her forehead before settling her breathing.

Ignis took this moment to gingerly approach the brunette as she slowly recomposed herself.

"Are you okay?" Ignis asked her, his voice quiet.

"I'm fine." Aracelis responded curtly from behind her hands. "This isn't the first time Gladio's behaved like a total idiot."

"…It sounds like… he just wants what is best for you." Ignis was careful to watch her response as he tried to provide insight into Gladio's brash words and actions.

Aracelis merely scoffed and dropped her hands away from her face. She moved to grab the nearest file by her and resumed working, if only to dismiss the conversation.

"You know… not a couple of weeks ago, I seem to recall you approaching me in a rather similar fashion when you found out I decided to join you in Kingsglaive." Ignis continued gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips at the memory. "I'm sure you can see where Gladio is coming from."

With that, Ignis quietly stepped away to return to his own tasks. However, before he completely disappeared into the archives once more, he spared one last glance back. Aracelis had resumed working, but her shoulders slouched ever so slightly.

* * *

Unprepared to return to the Kingsglaive training ground, Gladio charged through a winding corridor of the Citadel. Consumed by his fury, he didn't hear the slow arduous footsteps approaching around the next corner. In a harsh collision, he nearly bowled over the unlucky soul in his path. In a swift motion, Gladio reached out and grabbed a firm hold before his victim could topple over. Rather than properly standing up from their collision, Gladio felt the smaller curved body lean further into his supportive arms.

"Watch it big boy," drawled a sultry voice. "I enjoy a good plowing as much as the next girl, but I thought you would be more of the sort to wine and dine me before pinning me to the ground."

_…Oh great,_ Gladio grimaced in realization. "…Lady Claire." He stiffened, reserving a wide step back upon recognizing the notorious baroness-in-waiting.

"Come now." The dark-haired girl grinned slyly, taking another step towards him. "Don't tell me you're shy." Before he knew it, he found himself backed against a corner. Claire provided no leeway for him to tactfully regain his personal space. "I don't bite…much."

"Have some _respect _for your position Lady Claire." Gladio all but spat. His gaze dropped down to her attire and he felt a resurgence of anger upon his person. "…You're… in Crownsguard?"

"Amazing what you can get away with when you have status." Claire disclosed with a brazen smirk. "Though…" She paused before giving him a smug side glance. "I suppose that kinda thing no longer matters if you happen to be dumb enough to get on his majesty's bad side."

"Don't you have duties to attend to?" Gladio questioned in a near growl, jaw tight in restraint.

"Not particularly," dismissed the young woman. "Crownsguard is surprisingly…" she paused in thought, curling a girlish finger around the tips of her brown ponytail. "Bor~ing! I mean, with how Sir Cor is toted to the masses, I expected it to be much more exciting."

"Crownsguard is not a playground," grounded the Amicitia, remaining earnest despite her mocking.

A sly grin tugged at her lips. She crossed her arms and brushed her fingertips against her lips in a provocative manner. "If not for your House serving the crown for so many generations, I dare say Sir Cor would have been an excellent shield for his majesty."

"Enough, Lady Claire!" The Amicitia firmly maneuvered the girl aside before he gave her a curt nod and made haste away from her.

Claire continued, indifferent to his parting gesture. "Those trials Cor survived were meant for the king's shield after all."

His weary eyes grew in realization. The girl was speaking in reference to The Trial of Gilgamesh, a series of near impossible challenges conducted by the Founder King's shield Gilgamesh, The Blademaster.

"_I_ actually happen to know the location of the Tempering Grounds." Claire revealed to his departing back, her voice in a near sing-song. "I don't know about _you, _but I've _always _looked forward to seeing the place for myself. That's where Sir Cor earned his title _The Immortal_. And, he was only 15 years old too. Did you know that?"

Gladio continued on his way, trying to pay no mind to her immature potshots. Yet despite his efforts, it seemed each jibe pierced through his defenses.

"I mean, you're big and strong, right? Maybe you can take the trial and manage to succeed. Who knows? His majesty might even reinstate you."

For a moment, the promise of her words held him in place. The chance of resuming his rightful position as the prince's shield, the possibility of everything returning back to the way it should have been. With a headshake, Gladio came to his senses and hastened his steps to escape her taunting.

Gladio quietly mulled over his exchange with the Auburn heir amid fulfilling his Kingsglavie duties throughout the day. He couldn't help but admit that his life has fallen into chaotic disarray. All the hard work and grueling training he endured his whole life had gone to waste. Apart from becoming a shield, he can scarcely remember a time where that wasn't what he wanted.

…Except, there once was a time…

While the distant memory had settled far into the back of his mind, Gladio could recount the days when his mother Rose was still alive. Due to postpartum complications, his mother died within days of Iris' birth. Life changed when Rose died.

Whatever childish whims that persisted in him were ultimately stamped out, warped, and replaced with full devotion to becoming the next shield. At the lack of his mother's presence, his father's training regimen only grew more rigid and unyielding.

As Jared once put it, Rose was a rather spirited woman unafraid to voice her convictions. She even fought with the imposing Amicitia patriarch quite often, denouncing his relentless training methods.

The worst of their disputes concluded with his mother stealing him away to the Hester household in the middle of the night. He was no older than six at the time, but Gladio could well recall Selene placating his reckless mother, compelling her not to run off with him back to her hometown in Lestallum.

Before the final hour of the workday, the Amicitia searched high and low for the grinning baroness-in-waiting. He took a breath when she was finally found and came to a full stop in front of her, blocking her path.

"Lady Claire," he addressed, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

"Gladiolus," drawled the dark-haired young woman. "What a surprise…"

"Do you truly know the location of the Tempering Grounds?" He implored.

"…Why? Interested?" The Auburn heir smirked in amusement.

Gladio knows he shouldn't indulge her. However, if there was even the slightest chance to redeem himself… A quiet look of determination burned in his eyes.

"…When can we leave?"


	14. UO14: Episode Gladiolus

**Untold Omens**

**Chapter Fourteen: Episode Gladiolus**

Midnight blue shadows veiled the unlit bedroom, before the door creaked open inviting light and noise to disrupt the still dark silence. In a near crouch, a determined mother crawled to her son's bedside. Holding her breath, she placed a firm hand against him to jostle him awake.

"_Hush, hush…Wake up, hon. We're leaving…"_ whispered a familiar tender voice.

Mind still fighting off his addle haze, Gladio lurched up rubbing a clumsy hand over his face to wipe away the last dregs of sleep.

"…Mom?" He mumbled in confusion.

Though wispy and distant, Gladio could still remember her voice even after all these years. His amber eyes opened half expecting to see his mother again, but instead he was only greeted to the sight of black nighttime shadows by his bedside.

A quick glance to his clock told him he's woken up much earlier than anticipated. His drowsy gaze reflexively wandered to the neatly bundled green duffle-bag sitting at the foot of his bed, packed with only the barest of necessities.

Before dawn, he will be leaving Insomnia with Lady Claire as his guide to the Tempering Grounds in order to prove his worth.

When he returns triumphant against The Blademaster, the victory will be enough to attest to everyone in doubt of him. King Regis and the _brat_ prince. Crownsguard and Kingsglaive. His father and his forefathers before him. He will prove to them all that he too is worthy of being the Kings Shield. He must show them that he was never unworthy of the task in the first place.

Seeing as there was no point in trying to get any more sleep, he tossed his blankets aside and began his morning workout routine. Once completed, he came out of the shower moments later, clean and refreshed. While getting dressed, he glanced over his near minimalistic bedroom once more as if truly seeing it for the last time.

No one would be the wiser of the cherished mementos that sat within the bare walls. A bookshelf filled with his mother's collection of books and old romance novels sat next to a row of photographs. Those who meant the world to him were framed within its dust-free surface.

Gladio grazed a thumb over the photo of his mother with amber eyes that matched his own. Her stomach was round in the late stages of pregnancy, carrying Iris. He and Aracelis stood pictured alongside her, the girl lovingly hugging his mother's round belly, both of them still children back then.

* * *

_...Ten Years Ago_

_**M.E 741**_

"Glaaaaddddiiioooooooo!" A melodious little girl's voice called from outside his bedroom window.

Eight-year-old Gladio perked up at the call of his name and hurried away from his homework, fumbling to open his bedroom window. Somewhat mindful as to not completely throw himself over the edge, he lunged his head out and looked down to the house next door.

Waving at him from her bay window was a little girl with dark twin braids and wide-lens glasses. She held one of her many teddy bears in her arms and swung it at him in an excited wave.

"Ariiiiiie!" He waved back, happy at the sight of his next door neighbor.

"Can you come over and play today?" chirped the small brunette. "Mommy made snacks for us!"

"Uhhh…" Gladio glanced back to the stack of homework still sitting on his desk, shoulders dropping at the sight of the unfinished work. "I can't… I have homework."

"Awww," whined the little girl before a solution popped into her mind. "If you can't come over then… can I come over instead?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure!" shouted the hefty boy, elated at the prospect. "I'll go open the door for you!"

In all his excitement he made a hasty retreat, ready to charge down the stairs and greet her, before leaping back to decidedly shout one last thing.

"Bring the snacks!"

Gladio ran down the steps, taking two to three at a time. His hand barely grazed the banister as he practically flew to the bottom. Racing down the hallways, he was careful to peek around every corner in case his father was around. Seeing the coast clear he was quick to hurry along, a bright smile on his face.

However, just as he was about to pass the library, a pair of heated voices came from within. Gladio slowed his steps to a halt when he recognized them as his parents.

"He's only eight years old! You can't expect him to go through that kind of training on top of all his studies!" argued his mother, Rose.

"He is an Amicitia!" Clarus boomed. "And while under my house, he will obey my rules! If you cannot accept this…then you can leave!"

"Maybe I will!" She threatened. "You think I'm scared of you?"

Gladio hurried away in silence, not wanting either of his parents to catch him eavesdropping. By the time he reached the door, the boy had lost all his original glee at potentially seeing his friend.

"Gladdy!" cheered Aracelis when he opened the door, but tilted her head in confusion when she noticed his dour mood. "You okay? Do you have a tummy ache?"

"…No." He shook his head before forcing a grin to his face. "Did you bring the snacks?"

"Yup!" The bespectacled girl confirmed with a wide smile, tugging a little red wagon along.

A ridiculous amount of goodies were stacked atop one another in a mountain of neat little boxes, with several of her teddy bears and toys nestled against them for stability. Between the two children, they managed to lug the entirety of their horde up to Gladio's room.

It would be hours before the Hester Chamberlain found them asleep on the ground, surrounded by a mess of toys and teddy bears, their mouths covered with crumbs and smudges of sugar. This was the only remaining evidence of their confectionary feast. The boy laid sprawled out, mouth ajar with snores while the little girl curled up against his shoulder hugging a teddy bear.

The elderly man shook his head with fondness as he attempted to untangle the two children.

"Master Gladio. Aracelis…" At the disturbance, Gladio opened his groggy eyes and tried to move his napping buddy off him with a clumsy shove.

"…Arie… geroff," slurred the boy sleepily.

"Nyooo," whined the little girl as she clung on to him, stubborn and unwilling to let go of her human pillow.

"Now, now…" Jared hurried to settle the two children, lest they start screaming at one another from a cranky wakeup.

When the elder cradled Aracelis into his arms to bring her home, the little girl snuggled closer against her grandfather with a content yawn. He gave a pitying sigh before deciding to wake up the older boy, bringing an abrupt end to his peaceful slumber.

"Master Gladio." The Hester chamberlain called again, maintaining his tone hard with resolution. He couldn't resist smiling at the unkempt child gawking up at him, dazed in a groggy stupor. "Best you wash up before your bedtime young master. Lest your father find you in such condition."

Left alone, Gladio resigned to doing just as he was told. After washing up, he readily began tidying up the plain bedroom, putting away the mess of his friend's forgotten toys before drifting off to sleep. All the while, his mother's threat and his father's ultimatum weighed heavy on his mind.

…Might his mother leave him behind?

* * *

A firm hand jostled him awake much later that night.

"Hush, hush…Wake up, hon. We're leaving…" His mother whispered, brushing a gentle hand against his face.

"…Mom?" He murmured softly. The boy sat up, opening his eyes to the sight of her forlorn amber ones.

He curled a fist against his own, trying to rub away the remaining sleepy fog before he caught sight of the green duffle bag at her side. "Are we going over to Arie's house for a sleepover again?"

Her eyes red and stung with tears, his mother made haste as she rummaged through the drawers to shove some of her son's clothing into the packed bag. A choked laugh escaped through a stifled sob when she answered him. "…Yes sweetheart. Of course."

Sleepovers at the Hester household after midnight were no strange occurrence for Gladio. He's all but come to expect them whenever his mother packs the duffle bag in the middle of the night like this. Rose maintained a brave smile when she ushered him up and out of his bed. Together, they snuck out of the home and off the premises, hand in hand.

* * *

"Oh Rose…" Selene took one look at the disheveled woman before quickly pulling her into a hug.

"Gladdy!" Aracelis cheered through a sleepy yawn while plodding her way down the stairs. "Are you coming over for a sleepover again?"

When the girl found them, the nighttime guests no longer stood in the foyer. A weary smile graced the boy's face at the sight of his best friend.

"Arie, why don't you take Gladio up to your room?" Selene requested, escorting Rose into the kitchen. Aracelis hummed a sleepy confirmation as she took hold of his hand. The Hester matriarch fussed over the pregnant woman ready to prepare two warm cups of tea.

The children paused near the bottom of the stairway when they heard his mother's woeful declarations to Selene, her voice muffled behind the walls.

"I can't stand that tyrant anymore!" snapped Rose. "I'm going to take Gladio back to Lestallum with me. I mean it! I'm leaving as soon as possible."

"…Leaving?" Aracelis mumbled as she rubbed her eyes with a free hand, the other tightened possessively around his. When she took notice of Rose's bag at the doorway, the girl was swift to pull him along and lead him away, up the stairs and to her room.

"Rose, don't be ridiculous!" chided Selene. "You're about to give birth any day now! You are in no condition for traveling! What if… you gave birth in the middle of nowhere?"

Gladio missed the rest of the conversation between the two older women as they ascended the staircase, his friend urgently tugging him along. When she dragged him into her room, he couldn't help but appreciate the plush carpeting beneath his feet.

Her room was lit only by the decorative fairy lights adorning the walls. Sheer canopy curtains framed the bay window, piled high with a colorful assortment of teddy bears, each wearing handmade outfits sewn and knitted by Selene. A fluffy blanket and plush pillows laid haphazardly about the floor along with a scattering of crayon drawings, open books and toys. It was almost enough to tempt him to lay down and nap some more.

"…Gladdy?" Aracelis whispered softly, her hand squeezing his. He looked down at the smaller girl and noticed a slight trembling of her lower lip. "You're… not leaving are you?"

Any residual sleep still lingering completely disappeared as he squeezed her hand back. "Course not!" He forced a grin to his face.

"But…" she trailed off in hesitation.

"I'm not going anywhere," reassured the older boy as he planted a hand on her head.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

A shy smile lit up her rosy face and a relieved sigh escaped her. The girl was about to suggest games for them to play together before bedtime, but a loud shout was heard coming from downstairs.

"ALDER!" Selene cried firmly, a hint of urgency in her voice.

Both Aracelis and Gladio rushed back to the edge of the stairway to see her struggling to hold up the pregnant woman. His mother was hunched over in great discomfort**, **a puddle of water at her feet.

* * *

Weeks later, Gladio laid wide awake on his bed, staring blankly at his ceiling. His baby sister's cries could be heard echoing down the halls. His mom was gone. His father hasn't spoken in days.

Selene had tried to explain what happened, but Gladio couldn't understand any of it at the time. When he first saw the wetness beneath her, he had no idea what it meant, so he thought maybe his mother had an accident she often used to complain that the baby was kicking her bladder. He should have realized something was seriously wrong when Aracelis' parents rushed her into their car.

His father had charged out from their home next door not long after. Expression grave, Clarus kneeled by the open backseat clenching his hand tight over hers. The ordinarily stoic Amicitia patriarch held the panicked woman with steady patience, assuring her that she would be okay through her swearing and labored breathing… That was the last Gladio saw of his mother that night, before the Hesters drove his parents to the hospital.

He was told to stay behind with Aracelis to wait for further news**. **The next time he saw his father, the man hadn't spoken a single word to him. He just brought him to the hospital to see his mother… one last time.

Gladio took a deep breath as he fought back his anguish, his palm furiously rubbing over his face to dry up his miserable tears. He rolled out of bed and snuck over to his new little sister's nursery. He watched the nursemaid carefully set down his now quiet sister into her bassinet.

Waiting until the woman was long gone, he slipped in for a better look at the baby girl. Until now, the boy wanted nothing more than to bunch up his fist and strike her for taking his mother away. However, seeing how tiny and helpless she was, barely bigger than most of Aracelis' teddy bears, his anger immediately dissipated.

"_Gladio, be a good big brother to your sister okay? No bullying her."_

He recalled his mother's words to him when she first told him that he would be a big brother. He wasn't very excited about it at the time, but Rose made Iris sound especially fun. She even asked for his help with picking out a name for the baby from her favorite book, _The Language of Flowers_.

"…It's okay Iris," he whispered. The boy reached into the bassinet with a timid finger to gently prod at his sleeping sister. The pink baby began to squirm and wriggle to life at his light touch, remaining sound asleep. "Mom's gone, but… you still have me…"

* * *

..._One Year Later_

_**M.E 742**_

After his mother's death, his father Clarus only grew more stringent with overseeing his physical training and academic coursework.

Commonplace mistakes that were once passable were now wholly unacceptable. His father contended that he must work through his studies with utmost efficiency to make time for more essential matters, such as physical training. He received increasingly severe punishment for any sign of oversight or imperfection in both areas.

The boy worked hard to fulfill every task given to him. After all, he was a whole year older now, so Gladio clung firmly to an unshakable conviction that he must endure all his training, meet every standard, and accept every act of discipline as a met justice, carried out because it was due.

The most recent punishment tasked him with assisting the kitchen footmen in the low hot sculleries of the Citadel, peeling, husking and hauling countless vegetables among other such drudgery.

Fingers raw, numb and stiff from the hard labor of the night before, the boy gingerly buttoned his suit vest for the evening. Tonight, he would get to attend the event that he and the Citadel's kitchen scullions worked very hard to prepare for.

King Regis was hosting a garden soirée inviting a number of noble houses with children just about the prince's age, in order for them to meet with their awaited king. As the heir to the Amicitia House and the anticipated shield, naturally Gladio was expected in attendance as was Aracelis. Her mother even bought a lovely new dress for her to wear, yet the girl vehemently refused to attend as if her life depended on it.

Though the loss of his mother pained him greatly, he wasn't the only one affected. Aracelis had seemingly changed overnight since then, just after her seventh birthday. Gone was the carefree, friendly little girl that dragged him into anything that caught her interest and in her place was a distant, stoic and rule-abiding girl. A girl his father often praised for being mature for her age.

Despite having to wear a stuffy suit, Gladio very much looked forward to the evening. Tonight, he would finally be introduced to the Crown Prince of Lucis, Noctis Lucis Caelum.

As the Amicitia heir and the subsequent shield in training, he long resigned to his inescapable circumstance. In grim silence some unknown time ago, he submitted to the realization that he would never be treated as other children were because instead, he had a great purpose to fulfill.

The prince that would be his king was key to that purpose. Albeit not yet having met the other boy, the young Amicitia believed Prince Noctis to be the single most important figure to his life, crucial to bestowing all of his tribulations with any sense of pertinence and meaning.

The husky boy tugged uncomfortably at his suit collar while he stood in quiet obedience by his father's side. His gaze darted about rapidly, taking in all the sights of the Citadel gardens, decorated with soft white lights for the affair.

Finely dressed lords and ladies mingled with one another while the children played amongst the blooming spring flowers under the starry night sky. Uniformed staff scurried to and fro, serving the socializing nobility all around him, yet his eyes searched only for one person.

"I bet I can do a handstand longer than BOTH OF YOU COMBINED! WATCH THIS!"

At the sound of the declaration, Gladio snapped his attention to a trio of other children. A mischievous little girl, dressed up in pink bows abruptly flipped herself upside down. All at once, the ruffled layered skirts of her dress swung freely over her head unhiding the thick petticoats underneath.

Eyes wide, he watched as the girl began to wobble and struggle to remain upright, then ultimately lost her balance. With a clumsy landing, she fell directly on top of one of the boys she was playing with in a fit of laughter. The undisciplined girl cackled as the third child, a redheaded boy attempted to dislodge the little kid trapped beneath her. Once freed, the raven-haired boy scrambled away pathetically, in utter fear.

A mixture of confusion and dismay crossed Gladio's face while studying the frightened quivering child, growing disheartened by what the evidence suggested. From the looks of it, the meek raven haired boy was the only child around decked out in Lucian regalia.

_Could that … really be his future king? _

Whimpering, the boy scurried behind the safety of the king's legs, all but confirming Gladio's newfound fear.

King Regis stood tall, noble and dignified as a ruling sovereign should, whereas the delicate prince hiding beside him appeared comparably different from his own father. A fond chuckle escaped the king's lips as he planted a reassuring hand atop the prince's soft raven head.

Unable to restrain the brewing sense of disappointment, his distress began to overlap with a bitter longing at the doting display. Gladio's previous crestfallen expression twisted into a dark leer when both boys incidentally met eyes from a distance.

"Your majesty." The Amicitia patriarch approached the Lucian royalty, his hold hard on Gladio's shoulder.

"Clarus." The king greeted his shield with a smile before turning to his small son, still hiding behind his legs. The raven-haired boy clung onto his father's side, drawing his timid gaze from the austere shield down to his scowling son. "Come now, Noctis. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Noctis balked. Refusing to stand at the foreground, the prince dug his boots into the ground. His saucer-wide blue eyes resembled a frightened cat as he observed the robust older boy with apprehension.

Not to be utterly bested by this setback, the younger Amicitia steeled himself before he stepped forward first.

"Hi," he greeted, thrusting a hand out in salutation towards the younger boy. Determined, he managed a tight-lipped smile when he introduced himself. "…I'm Gladiolus Amicitia, but you can just call me Gladio."

The king lowered a hand to the shy prince, gently prodding him to step forward as well. "…Noctis," his father softly urged through a restrained grimace.

Young Noctis flinched, his fair fingers gradually released hold of his father's suit. The prince surveyed the rough larger hand, gaze arrested on the tough skin, raw with callouses. Noctis stalled for a long indefinite moment, undecided, only to renounce him and turn away.

Gladio faltered, dumbstruck. Holding his breath, he lowered his hand back to his side.

A sigh escaped the monarch's lips before he turned to the perplexed Amicitia father. In stone silence, Clarus cocked a single brow.

The king revealed a quaint and sheepish expression. "I suppose he's still a bit shy. Please don't mind my son."

A moment later, the skittish prince took off. Regis called after his son, concerned at the boy's abrupt departure, but he was long gone. At the king's show of leniency, Gladio found himself clenching his fists tight at his sides. The prince hadn't even gotten a reprimand. It was then that he felt the beginnings of a bitter grudge, fueled by a covetous rage for the other boy's abundant privilege. A forbidden secret he buried deep within him.

The young shield in training couldn't be more demoralized by the brat prince that was to be his future king.

* * *

_Founders Day Festival_

_**M.E 742 **_

"Come on Arie!" Gladio exclaimed as he dragged her along.

"Must I?" drawled the younger girl with a sigh, nudging sleek lenses back up the bridge of her nose. Despite her protest, he abruptly yanked her away.

Strings of lights hanging with blue and yellow banners stretched beneath the bridges within the city slums. Food stalls puffing smoke lined the crowded streets. The aroma of heavily spiced food permeated through the air, adding to the heat of the summer eve. Hand in hand, they maneuvered through the crowd, passing along a vibrant maze of street food and funfair activities. The local residents wore a plethora of varied clothing, styles reminiscent of their hometowns outside of the Crown City.

"Now, now." Selene called after them playfully. "Wait for me, you two!"

She walked fast to keep up, even with baby Iris strapped to her front in a harness. In place of their late mother, the Hester matriarch had taken it upon herself to invite the Amicitia siblings along to whatever festivities she brought her own daughter to. The baby girl shrieked and giggled as she took in the bustling surroundings, kicking her stubby arms and legs in joy.

"Okay, who's hungry?" Toting the three children, Selene ushered them along to the nearest food stall taking a much needed break at a nearby bench.

Aracelis turned up her nose at the smell when the woman handed her a skewer dripping with sauce and dry spices.

"…What is this?" The girl asked in dismay, carefully nibbling the edge before quickly pulling away. Her face pinched, eyes tearing at the spiciness of the food.

Gladio held no such reservation as he happily dug in at the offered food, tearing a small chunk of meat off the stick. Tender and flavorful, the robust boy had no trouble devouring it in record time.

"You gonna eat that?" He asked, pointing at the barely touched skewer in her hand.

Without a word, Aracelis handed it over to him then tugged on Selene's arm in demand of a drink to clear off the burn in her mouth. Despite this being his first year coming here without his mother, Gladio still found himself excited. However, a quick glance at Aracelis made him wonder why his best friend didn't share his high spirits.

"Stop being such a sourpuss!" He ruffled her hair, much to her annoyance.

"I said quit it." Aracelis ordered in a clipped tone, swatting the boy's hands away.

He rolled his eyes at the sedated girl. The serious child held herself akin to a noble lady of the court, composed and graceful compared to the fun wild child she once was. She no longer wore her hair in twin tailed braids. Her hair now hung partly down, clasped tightly with a barrette.

In his peripheral, he caught sight of the perfect remedy to her bad mood. The biggest teddy bear he's ever laid eyes on was being offered up as a grand prize at a game stall nearby. This would cheer up his best friend for sure. The little girl adored teddy bears. All he had to do was beat the game and win the prize for her, easy.

"Watch this!" The boy dragged his friend over to the game stall after asking Selene for some money.

"Gladio, no. I don't want that thing," groaned Aracelis as she was helplessly pulled along. "Besides, all these games are probably rigged anyway…"

The dodgy huckster who ran the stall began his usual spiel, smirking with confidence as the boy exchanged payment for a small leather wrapped ball. Before he could finish speaking however, every stacked metallic can went flying into the air with a loud violent impact. The ball clung pitifully into the tent before falling to the ground.

Aracelis gapped in surprise, not expecting the quick victory. Exuberant, Gladio held out his hands, opening and closing them in an expectant gesture. Eye twitching, the irate man heaved over the grand prize, more than happy to conceal the cheeky grin on the boy's face. The young Amicitia caught the large bear in a wide hug and without warning, dumped the oversized stuffed animal directly on top of his friend.

Surprise turned into indignation as the giant stuffed bear toppled her small body to the ground.

"Gladio!" She growled, murder clear in her eyes as she struggled to crawl out from underneath its heavy plush body.

Enraged yet determined, the girl attempted to throw the bear back at him in revenge. Try as she might, she ultimately couldn't get the thing to budge and eventually gave up, sending him into a fit of laughter. Iris joined in, clapping her small hands with glee as Selene approached the pair giggling in amusement behind her hand.

Getting the giant stuffed bear home was quite the chore as it didn't fit in the trunk. The children laid it flat across their laps together in the backseat, pressing down with all their might so it wouldn't obscure the rearview mirror. Unhappy with the situation, Aracelis grumbled under her breath the whole way back. Seeing her so flustered sent the boy into another laughing fit.

* * *

_Amicitia Estate_

_**M.E 745**_

In the following years, Aracelis had taken to posing the gift, Mr. Bear directly in front of her bay window, at first to convince him the giant toy was alive. However, at twelve years old, he was too old to fall for her mean-spirited tricks. Still, she often maintained the ruse, now an inside joke shared between them.

Taking a short break from his studies, he stretched before momentarily sparing a glance out his window in search of her. Hand pressed against the windowpane, he spotted Aracelis seated alongside three-year-old Iris in Selene's backyard garden, surrounded by shrubs and a blooming assortment of flowers. Both girls looked over his mother's favorite book, _The Language of Flowers_.

Gladio felt his heart grow warm watching little Iris pointing to the various hand drawn art of the flowers, much like he used to when his mother was still alive. The familiar book held many fond memories of her. Rose would go through every flower, explaining what each represented and what messages one could send through a bouquet.

Fond memories aside, Gladio broke away and returned to his desk. He had just one more year to complete all of his studies. After that, his real duties would begin, taking his place at the Citadel and officially training the prince.

It became an inward struggle to endure all his training after their rocky first encounter, but he continued to face the mountain of adversity head on. The future shield clung to the hope that perhaps with his tutelage, it would be enough to shape the prince into the kind of man he needed him to be. With that, Gladio held strong and pulled through. In time, he would one day have to join the ranks of Crownsguard.

It was dusk when he next gazed out his window. The twilight sky was painted with the colorful hues of blue and green with streaks of pink and orange. He glanced down to the bay window next door, expecting to see Mr. Bear placed in yet another position.

What he saw instead was Aracelis curled up against the stuffed bear, gazing out at the view. Solemn expression, she appeared to be looking up at the sky. However, when their eyes met she stuck out her tongue childishly. A short laugh escaped him at her immaturity. He grinned before returning the gesture by making faces at her. Despite her serious and ornery personality, she was still his dear friend after all.

* * *

_...Present Day_

_**M.E 751**_

Gladio stared absently out from his window, gazing down to the lightless empty window to Aracelis' bedroom. Tonight, Mr. Bear was missing again. Idly, he wondered how much longer she would continue to keep the old thing when she'd already gotten rid of everything else from her childhood.

He shook the doubts from his head before reaching for the last photo taken of her and Iris, carefully packing it with the rest of his essentials.

Brimming with determination, he was now prepared to rendezvous with Lady Claire. Unfortunately, the Auburn heir hasn't changed much since the day he first laid eyes on her, mischievous and covered in bows in the Citadel garden party. The prince hasn't changed much either since then.

Gladio silently closed the door to his bedroom. With his mother's green duffel bag hanging over his shoulder, he snuck out of the home and off the premises. This time he made his way alone.


End file.
